


Moved By You

by Dayo488



Category: The 100 (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Attempted Assault, Enemies to Friends to Lovers, F/M, Found Family, Grounder Bellamy Blake, Grounder Harper, Grounder John Murphy (The 100), Grounder Octavia Blake, Hurt/Comfort, Minor Character Death, Mutual Pining, Slow Burn, heartbreaking to heartwarming and everything in between, warnings are posted when needed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-14
Updated: 2020-07-05
Packaged: 2021-02-28 22:55:26
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 33
Words: 247,436
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23145043
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Dayo488/pseuds/Dayo488
Summary: When Clarke finds out that the Ark cannot sustain oxygen past a year, she, along with 3 other experts in their fields, join the prisoners on a mission to Earth, to find out whether it's survivable in the even they can't fix the oxygen systems.However, one of the other adults with her on the mission betrays her and trades her to a Grounder village. Clarke must figure out where she belongs and who she is as she struggles with what her life looks like now. She finds that she enjoys the people of her village, but still feels torn between the people who want nothing to do with her anymore, and the people who she finds she wants to be with, including the village's leader, who is annoying and pushes all her buttons, but also has a depth to him that she hadn't expected.
Relationships: Bellamy Blake & John Murphy, Bellamy Blake/Clarke Griffin, Clarke Griffin & Harper McIntyre, Clarke Griffin & John Murphy, Minor Flarke - Relationship, Monty Green/Harper McIntyre, Octavia Blake & Clarke Griffin, Octavia Blake/Lincoln
Comments: 705
Kudos: 725





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> Hello all!
> 
> So I took some time writing and posting this story because I wanted to make sure I had a decent handle on the world and where I was headed so I wouldn't have to go back and change a bunch of things. I'm finally posting this, even though it makes me a little nervous, because it's very different than my other story. But I'm excited for the challenge it's given me and I hope you all enjoy the ride!
> 
> I'm going to try a posting schedule of every Tues/Fri but we'll see how that ends up going. I'm currently writing chapter 10, and to be honest, while I have the plot basically outlined, I have no idea how long it's actually going to end up being. And like my other fic, the rating won't go past M. 
> 
> The other thing I want to mention is that this fic does use Trig, although sparingly, and I try to immediately give an indication as to what the meaning of it is if the phrase isn't common. If it is too confusing, please let me know and I can add a glossary in the end notes. Also, unlike my last one, there are flashbacks so those are labeled accordingly. I hope it all makes sense!
> 
> Have fun!

Clarke hadn't seen the sun in three days.

Three _fucking_ days.

And it was all because she let her guard down, over a boy. 

A stupid boy that she’d allowed to get under her skin and in her heart, and now she was completely and utterly _fucked_. 

She grew up in space, where the sun never set or rose and for the last month that she’s been on Earth, she’d grown quite fond of the sunrises and sunsets every day. And now, she had neither, and she didn’t know how long she’d be locked in the cave. 

“How in the hell did I let this happen?” she said to no one in particular. “Hello? Anyone out there? I’d like some answers _anytime_! Guard!!” she called out, slamming her hand against the rock wall in frustration. The chains around her wrists cut into her skin and the rational side of Clarke told her that she needed to stop with that or she’d end up with an infection.

But the more impetuous side of her told that logical side to _shut the hell up_.

She’d been stuck in this ridiculous cave without sunlight, chained to the stupid wall and the only other soul she’d seen was the guard that had been put in charge of her. The guard had brought her fresh water and food twice a day, but other than that, Clarke hadn’t seen anyone. 

The guard in question walked just within sight of her. She was a petite brunette, and for all intents and purposes, Clarke _should_ be able to take her. Clarke could hold her own alright; they’d all had to take defensive courses on the Ark when they’d volunteered to lead this mission. She’d trained for months. 

Unfortunately for Clarke, this woman looked like she could take out an entire army with nothing but her glare. She had war paint over her eyes and two swords at her back. Her outfit was dressed to the nines with knives and other various tools and she strode in like she’d never even heard the word ‘fear’ or ‘lose’. Clarke wouldn’t be surprised if this woman had never lost a battle a day in her life. 

So that made Clarke a little cautious.

The guard shouted out something towards her in her native language, which the Arkers had found out shortly after arriving on Earth was called Trigedaleng. It was very reminiscent of English, so Clarke was mostly able to make out at the very least the meaning in the dealings they’d had with the Grounders.

To her understanding, what her guard was saying was roughly equivalent to either _stop talking_ or _fuck you_. Really it could go either way and had the same end result.

Clarke sighed and threw her head back. “Look, you obviously don’t want to be here any more than I do -”

“- that’s a fucking understatement,” the guard snorted at her, the first thing she’d said in English since Clarke had gotten there.

“So why won’t you tell me exactly _why_ I am here? I know that asshole Finn made some sort of deal with the Commander?”

The guard just stared at her.

“Can’t you give me _anything_?” Clarke screamed at her, annoyed. The guard didn’t even flinch. “At least your name maybe? So I don’t have to call you ‘Guard”?”

“No more talking. Call me whatever you want, _skaigada_. It makes no difference to me.”

With that, she turned on her heels and strode out, just as indifferent as when she strode in.

Clarke let out a scream.

\-----------------------------

_  
**8 months ago**   
_

“Clarke, it’s dangerous. Why would you even _think_ of volunteering?” her mother asked, seemingly incredulous that this was even a conversation worth having.

“Abby, maybe we should hear her out,” her father tried to coax, always the mediator between the two of them.

It wasn’t that Clarke had a bad relationship with her mother, quite the opposite, actually. They loved each other fiercely. And both had a tenacity that rivaled even the strongest of wills. Which more than occasionally led to intense arguments.

“No. I don’t want to hear her out. This is ridiculous, Jake, how could you even entertain this as an actual idea worth considering?”

Clarke scoffed. Like she wasn’t an adult who could make her own fucking decisions.

“Abby,” her father said gently, in that way of his that always managed to soften her mother’s resolve, even if just slightly. 

Except this time, apparently.

“No, Jake, don’t ‘Abby’ me. It’s _too dangerous_ ,” her mother reiterated.

“Mom, I’m not a little kid anymore. Yes, it’s dangerous. Yes, it’s a risk. But you don’t get to decide for me if it’s a risk worth taking or not. I get to make that call.”

“Let them send someone else,” her mother stood firm.

“I can’t do this anymore,” she faced her father. “If she is just going to be a stubborn a-”

“Careful, Clarke,” her father warned.

She took a deep breath. “Okay, I’m sorry. That was uncalled for. But it is my decision,” Clarke maintained. 

Her mother looked like if she was a cartoon character she would have steam coming out of her ears. “And it’s a decision that affects this entire family.”

Clarke sighed and stepped closer to her mother. “I know Mom, and it isn’t a decision I took lightly or without thought, you know that. I always think things through. But they need a doctor and you and Jackson are too valuable and needed up here. I’m just an apprentice. But I have enough medical experience that makes this the smart move,” she tried to explain. 

Her mother just stood with her arms folded and eyes glaring daggers at her daughter, but at least she hadn’t argued so Clarke pressed on with her reasoning.

“This mission has to happen with or without me. I need to do this, Mom. This is how we save our people.”

\------------------------

_This is how we save our people._

Her argument with her mother was one of the things that played on a loop through Clarke’s mind over the last month since they’d arrived on the ground.

It wasn’t that her mother was right, necessarily, she wasn’t quite ready to concede that. But Clarke definitely did not see everything that had happened coming. She certainly had thought it would be easier than it ended up being.

Of course, it might have been, had she not fallen for Finn and missed what was going on right under her nose. 

When Chancellor Jaha had announced a mission to Earth to all the department heads 7 months ago, everyone had been expectedly confused. The world had only ended 97 years ago… why would they go back so early? This wasn’t in the plans for at least 200 more years.

But Clarke had known. Jake Griffin was one of the Ark’s best engineers. He had noticed a problem with the Ark’s oxygen system and it wouldn’t be able to be fixed quickly enough. The Ark wouldn’t sustain them all for longer than a year and it would take about that amount of time to fix the system. Sending 100 people to Earth bought them just enough time. Clarke still remembered _that_ family dinner like it was yesterday.

It terrified her to think about her friends and family dying in that stupid metal ring. She’d felt so helpless and out of control. 

Jaha had decided to send the juvenile prisoners down with a team of experts to determine the likelihood of a return to Earth. There was evidence to suggest that since they were all born in space and exposed to solar radiation, they may be able to withstand any remaining radiation the Earth held. It wasn’t a sure bet, but they were optimistic.

He’d be accepting volunteer applications from the Engineering, Medical, Guard, General Earth Skills, and Farming Departments, and would choose four candidates to make the journey to the ground. Clarke had taken an application, filled it out, and was the first one to turn it in before even telling her parents.

She refused to remain helpless. She wasn’t going to just sit around and let her people die.

It was a chance to go to the ground, a chance to be one of the first to determine whether the ground was survivable. It was a dream. She’d be able to get out from under her mother’s shadow, a chance to spread her wings. She had a medical background, and always did well in her Earth Skills courses, so she hoped that would give her an edge.

Once her application had been filed, and the rest came in the week after hers, the council gathered to make the determination as to who would represent each department. 

Her mother, having been on the council, was furious when she came home that evening and the argument that had ensued was the very one Clarke was remembering at that moment in her lonely, damp, smelly part of a cave who knows where.

She estimated that it had been a few hours since her interaction with the guard, and about eight since her last meal, which meant she’d been coming in any minute again. 

Clarke tried to jog in place, to keep her muscles strong and ready to go, if she ever got a chance to run. 

Sure enough, the guard walked in with a canteen of water and some soup. 

“Please, can you just tell me how much longer I’ll be in here?” Clarke asked, trying to keep the weakness out of her voice, but it still sounded a little too much like pleading. The only way to get any answers would be a show of strength. “I don’t know what they’ve told you about me, but I’m a very important part of my group. If you don’t release me, I won’t be able to help you,” she tried.

The guard gave her a sly smile. “Help me? It looks like you are the one who needs help,” she pointed out cheekily. “According to your leader -”

“That asshole is _not_ our leader!” Clarke interrupted in a rage.

“Regardless, he is the one your _kru_ follows now. And according to him, you are the bargaining chip our _Heda_ requires for there to be peace between our clans.”

“Peace? You call this _peace_?” she roared. “I’m a freaking prisoner! Can you at least tell me what happened to the man that I was with when I was taken? His name was Wells.”

The woman’s expression softened for a moment. “I can’t, I’m sorry, I don’t know, and I’m sorry for how this is being… handled. But there are things to be sorted out and we didn’t have another place for you while -”

“OCTAVIA!” A man shouted from the cave entrance. It was the first voice Clarke had heard besides her guard’s (Octavia, she now knew), and he did not sound happy. Octavia’s head snapped to the place the summon had come from. 

The man’s voice yelled in Trig to her, and Clarke saw Octavia roll her eyes and stomp off towards the exit.

“Wait!” Clarke called. “Don’t just leave me here!” she said, tugging at the chains again. “Come fucking _on_ ,” she mumbled under her breath.

 _Fucking Finn_. She wasn’t sure what exactly had happened, but she knew she’d been betrayed.

\------------------------

_  
**7 months ago**   
_

Two weeks after her argument with her mother about applying for the mission, Clarke ran down the Alpha station hallway as quickly as she dared. She already knew she was most likely chosen as the mission’s doctor; her mother wouldn’t have been so upset if it wasn’t going to be a real possibility. But once they posted the list, she’d get to find out who was going with her from the other departments. 

As she rounded the corner, she almost ran into her best friend, Wells Jaha.

“Hey, Griffin. Where’s the fire?” he asked, fully aware of where she was headed. He had applied to go too, as the mission’s engineer. 

She slowed down to talk to him. “List is posted, you know that,” she gave him a suspicious look. They’d spent every day of the last couple weeks talking about what the ground would be like and they were excited to be amongst the first in a hundred years to breathe that air again. His father, unlike Abby, had refused to give any indication as to whether Wells had been chosen or not, but they were pretty sure if Clarke was in, Wells was too.

“Yeah, maybe I’m not as much in a hurry as I thought I’d be to check it out,” he told her mysteriously. That stopped her in her tracks.

“Why? Aren’t you curious who we’ll be going with?”

“I’m not going, Clarke. My dad finally told me this morning right before the list was posted. He wanted me to ‘hear it from him’,” Wells said with a hint of disdain in his tone.

“Wait, _what_?” she exclaimed. “No way, why wouldn’t they pick you? That’s ridiculous.”

“Well, apparently, there’s a couple reasons, me being the Chancellor’s son is one of them.”

“That’s stupid. I’m a council member’s kid too!” she said in disbelief. 

“Yeah, but your vote didn’t end in a tie like mine. My dad had the tie breaking vote.”

“He can’t just block you from going!”

“He’s the Chancellor, Clarke, he can do just about anything he wants,” Wells said tiredly, like he’d already had this conversation.

Clarke slumped over. He wasn’t wrong. Chancellor Jaha was a good chancellor, impartial and just for the most part, but he had a huge blind spot when it came to his son after the passing of his wife, and there was no way he’d risk Well’s life on a mission like this. It’s amazing that they hadn’t seen this coming.

“I’m so sorry.”

“Me too. I hate that you’re going without me,” he said with sadness. “Let’s go,” he sighed. “I guess it’ll be helpful to see who you’ll be headed down to the ground with.”

“You sure? The list isn’t going anywhere, we can go do something else first?”

“No, let’s just get it over with. At least I won't lose you for another six months.” 

“Wells, you aren’t going to lose me. After our six month trial period on the ground is up, the rest of you will use the Exodus ship and join us. It’ll be fine.”

Wells nodded, but didn’t say anything, giving her a dubious look instead.

Once they reached the list, she had to elbow her way up to the front to even get to see it.

**Ground Mission** ****

**Clarke Griffin - Medical**

**Finn Collins - Farm/Earth Skills**

**Nathan Miller - Guard**

**Monty Green - Engineering**

Well, there it was.

Clarke knew Monty from classes and was friends with him, and she knew he was apprenticing under Sinclair, but she had no idea he’d applied for the mission at all. He was quiet, but kind, and incredibly intelligent. 

Nathan Miller was more unfamiliar to her. They’d interacted only rarely, but she knew he was a loyal, hardworking, and trustworthy member of the Ark’s Guard like his father before him. They’d had Earth Skills together and in all the simulations, she remembered he’d always been a good hunter, so she figured that probably played a part in him getting selected.

Finn was a bit more of a mystery to her though. He was a year ahead of her and she’d seen him around, but had never actually talked to him before. Clarke knew him mostly by reputation. Last year, he apparently created some kind of bean that would adapt to grow in even really harsh soil and weather conditions. It was all over the Ark Newspapers for weeks. Not that she minded; he wasn’t exactly hard on the eyes.

Well, no matter how well she knew them, she’d have to figure out how to get used to them all eventually; they were scheduled for training starting next week and it would last approximately six months before they set off for a planet that may or may not be able to support human life.

\------------------------

“Time to get up, _skaigada,_ ” a voice sounded above her. Without opening her eyes Clarke had registered that it was the same voice that had called Octavia out of the cave before. She wondered passively if he ever had a tone _other_ than scorn.

She remained where she was. Clarke was sure that wherever this idiot wanted her to go was probably _not_ where she wanted to be going.

“Fine. Stay here and die,” he offered sarcastically instead.

Clarke sighed and rolled her eyes behind her lids before finally opening them. “What do you want?”

She’d barely gotten a glimpse of his brown curly hair and bright brown eyes that somehow didn’t match his gruff tone before a bag was unceremoniously placed over her head and she was hauled to her feet. 

“Hey!” she exclaimed to her handler. “Get your hands off me, I can walk by myself.”

“Suit yourself,” he said mockingly and let go of her instantly. 

She winced, as he went to unlock the chains around her wrists from the wall so she wasn’t connected to the cave anymore, though her wrists were still connected to each other, and she heard them clang against the cave wall. Clarke realized with irritation that with a bag over her head she would indeed need to be guided. But she was far too stubborn to admit that so her brain started trying to remember what she’d seen of the cave she’d been stuck in for days.

“After you, Princess” he told her sarcastically and if Clarke didn’t have the bag over her head she might have actually taken a swing at him. Who the hell is he calling Princess?

_You can do this._

She took a few tentative steps forward. Once she was confident where in the cave she was and the direction she should head in, she walked more confidently. She could feel his presence next to her, the warmth radiating from his skin, but he walked so softly she couldn’t actually hear him. 

What she did feel though, was the moment she stepped outside and felt the sun on her skin and her fingers itched towards the bag so she could feel it on her face.

She heard a rustling of the forest floor to her left, whereas the man sent to retrieve her was on her right, and she turned instantly towards the noise, body tensed for a fight.

“What the hell, Bellamy?” she heard the guard that she was familiar with over the past couple days spout towards the man. Clarke was right, she wasn’t afraid of anything. 

“ _Chil au_ , O,” the man said, dismissing Octavia. “The _skaigada_ is fine.”

“Show some _fiyanes_ , big brother,” Octavia said, and Clarke appreciated that the woman was trying to get this man, who her brain committed to memory was called Bellamy, to show her some compassion. Then Octavia spoke another phrase to him in Trig that Clarke did not recognize, but it was definitely a rebuke of some sort because she could hear the scoff he made.

But, _brother_? Huh.

The bag was ripped from her head and Octavia was standing in front of her, but spots instantly appeared in her vision from the brightness of the sun. She vaguely noticed the bag being thrown behind her, presumably at the man.

“Ugh, _moba_ Clarke kom Skaikru,” Octavia apologized. It was entirely unexpected, considering the cold demeanor of the past few days.

Clarke scrunched her face closed and tried to get her eyes to adjust on her face. “Thank you for the bag,” she said, gesturing to her head. “But what is going on?”

Clarke glanced around to try to figure out where she was, but it just looked like more woods, so really she could be anywhere. Her nose did detect a slight salty smell though and she noted it was more humid here than back at camp so they must be closer to the water. When she turned around she saw who she guessed to be Bellamy leaning against the wall of rock near the entrance of the cave, looking towards her with annoyance on his face. 

Well, he wasn’t the only one annoyed. She wasn’t particularly pleased with the situation either. Though she did finally see the resemblance between him and Octavia. 

“Look, I removed the bag from your head because my brother was being a jerk and overprotective of me and Sonchahou, but I cannot answer your questions. Our leaders have forbidden it until they get a chance to explain the situation to you,” Octavia told her.

“What’s Sonchahou? I haven’t heard that phrase before.”

“It is your new home,” Bellamy said, pushing off the cave and striding forward past her and Octavia followed. They got about 20 feet ahead of her, before looking back to see Clarke hadn’t moved. “What, can you only walk with a bag over your head?” he asked, raising an eyebrow and the bag in his hand. Octavia smacked him in the shoulder, making him roll his eyes.

“How do you say ‘shut up’ in Trig?” she mumbled as she forced her feet forward to follow her two captors.

When she got closer to Octavia, she saw a small smile appear on her face and she quietly told Clarke as she passed, “ _Shof op._ ”

Clarke decided that maybe out of the two, Octavia wasn’t too terrible.

\------------------------

They walked in silence for a half hour before reaching the entrance of their village. Bellamy said something to the guard in Trig and they stepped aside. While he still didn’t touch her, he stood so close that if she shifted even slightly, their arms would run the length of each other. Octavia stood on her other side, obviously more relaxed now that they were within the village borders. Throughout their walk she’d always had one of her hands on the hilt of one of her many knives around her waist.

Clarke had so many questions on the tip of her tongue and her instinct was to stop instantly and demand answers, not moving until they acquiesced, but she had a feeling that wouldn’t quite work out the way she wanted.

When they got closer to the center of the village, she noticed that one particular structure was the focal point, and Clarke figured it was probably their meeting house. They paused at the entrance, knocking twice on the large wooden door. 

“Come in,” a voice sounded and Bellamy opened the door for her and Octavia.

“If you want the answers you seek, sit down and let them explain what is happening. Our council is just and they will listen to your questions once they see you show them respect,” Octavia leaned over and told her as she removed the chains from her wrists completely. 

How in the hell was she supposed to show respect to people who basically kidnapped her?

Clarke sighed and did as she was told though, desperate to find out where Wells was and when she could go home, rolling her wrists out, wincing when the skin pulled at the wounds.

She was seated in front of a long table where there were three people seated already, and Bellamy joined them soon after, sitting in the fourth, empty seat. Octavia stood in the back. 

“Clarke kom Skaikru, do you know why you’re here?” one of the women asked her.

She resisted the urge to respond sarcastically. “No,” she said simply. She opened her mouth to ask a question, but she heard Octavia clear her throat behind her and so Clarke clamped her mouth shut. She wasn’t sure _why_ she was heeding her advice, but something told her it was a good idea. Bellamy smirked at her from his seat and Clarke decided to focus her attention on the other three and ignore him completely.

There were two women and two men, including Bellamy. Well, one woman and one girl. The girl seated next to the woman that had asked Clarke the question couldn’t have been more than 15. The woman was beautiful, with wild red curly hair and discerning eyes and the man next to her was much the same, and if their body language was any indication, they were together.

“I am Luna kom Floukru. I am the one of the leaders of this clan. This is Derek,” she indicated to the man. “This is Adria, my second. Anya, our ambassador and head of our warriors is currently in Polis meeting with our Heda. And you’ve met Bellamy, correct?” she asked.

Clarke couldn’t help but snort, and she could see Bellamy shooting daggers at her in her peripheral. “No, actually, we have _not_ been formally introduced.”

“I see,” Luna said and she turned her head towards Bellamy and raised her eyebrows at him. 

Bellamy sighed and stood. “I am Bellamy kom Floukru,” he said, rehearsed and bored.

Luna nodded her head. “Bellamy is our main leader in this village, called Sonchahou. Derek, Adria, and myself head back to our main village in the morning. We had been summoned here to facilitate our heda’s orders.”

Clarke glanced back at Octavia and tried to ask with her eyes whether it was time to ask her questions, but the woman shook her head minutely. 

“Three days ago, we received word that the leader of your clan, the one called Finn, had struck a deal with our heda.” While Luna had talked mostly with an even tone, Clarke detected an undercurrent of disapproval, indicating that this _deal_ that had been decided upon was without her knowledge or consent.

 _Join the club._ Clarke, too, was a part of this deal that she was sure she wouldn’t have approved of.

“Apparently you were no longer wanted by your leader, yet are considered an important figure on your Ark. Heda Ontari saw fit to place you here, where we have need of a healer, in exchange for an alliance between her and Finn, wherein, he will also share your weaponry and technology with Heda.”

Finn… wanted… to… get _rid_ of her? 

Clarke saw red. Silence and respect be _damned_.

“ _Excuse_ me?!” she shouted at them, rising to her feet.

She knew Finn had made some ridiculous deal with Ontari, but any shred of her that held onto the denial that it all was just some misunderstanding vanished.

“You will sit,” Bellamy said, rising from his chair and glaring her down.

“Fuck that. I’m not honoring any of that. I am _not_ property. You can’t just horse trade me around. Your heda or Finn!”

She caught a flash of some sort of mixture of rage and sorrow in Bellamy’s expression, before his indifference was back.

Luna held a hand up, sighing. “I understand your frustration. And to be honest, I share it. I would be upset if I were in your position as well, Clarke, so I will forgive the outburst.”

“How kind,” Clarke said through gritted teeth.

“But my forgiveness only goes so far, so you would do well to respect the people in front of you. Believe it or not, we are on your side. We will try to make your life as comfortable and welcoming as possible here. Right, Bellamy?” she asked, glancing to her left. 

“Of course. The Sky Princess will be right at home,” he said.

“Don’t fucking call me that.” _Right at home,_ sure.

Luna’s expression turned towards her in warning and Clarke dipped her head in apology. She really needed to watch her tongue.

“You will stay in the cabin that the previous healer occupied. It is near our clinic. The previous healer had an apprentice, Harper. She will assist you and show you around. I expect she will join you in the morning,” Luna told her. Clarke nodded her understanding.

At least she got to live in her own place. But this wasn’t her home, wasn’t her people. This wasn’t where she belonged. Other than imprisoning her in a cave for three days and a leader with an attitude problem, they seemed like decent enough people, but she had her own job here on the ground and responsibilities and for the thousandth time, cursed Finn’s name in her head for getting her in this mess. 

“Any other questions I can try to answer for you?” Luna asked.

Clarke straightened up. This was her chance. 

“When you captured me in the woods -”

Luna held up a hand and interrupted her. “Actually that was Azgeda, under Ontari’s orders. I was not informed of what had happened until you had been delivered to us.”

 _Delivered_. Like she was a fucking package.

Clarke deflated, but asked anyway. “Do you know what happened to the man I was with? Wells? Did Azgeda do something to him?” The fact that the people she was going to be living with for a while didn’t do the actual kidnapping was good, but it didn’t bode well for Wells that it was Azgeda instead.

“I do not. Azgeda does not like to share any details that they don’t have to,” Luna told her in a clear tone of irritation, but it didn’t seem directed at her.

Clarke was starting to feel desperate. Wells wasn’t even supposed to be on the ground. He was supposed to be safe on the Ark, not down here in this war zone of a planet. He was like a brother to her, he was her family. And while she had been angry when she found him on the dropship after they’d landed on the ground, she’d thrown her arms around him and was so happy to have him with her regardless of what he’d done to get there. 

Now she wished more than anything that he had just stayed on the Ark.

“Well, can we find out? I’m sorry, I just… I want to make sure nothing happened to him. He wasn’t even supposed to be with us, damnit.”

She saw Bellamy raise an eyebrow at her, clearly mistaking her distress over Wells for something it wasn’t, but she couldn’t care less at that moment what he thought. Let him make him all the incorrect insinuations he wanted; it made no difference to her. 

He wasn’t the only one misinterpreting it though; she saw Luna soften and take Derek’s hand and exchange a look with him.

It wasn’t like that with Wells though, they were nothing more than best friends and family. She’d never felt that way about him, even when they were in high school and Wells had admitted one night that he had a crush on her. It was awkward for a while when she tried explaining to him that she didn’t share his feelings, but they rebounded quickly, and things were nothing more than brother and sister from then on out.

“I will make some inquiries to the Ice Nation delegates that Ontari sent to oversee this… agreement, but I can’t make any promises.”

Clarke nodded, appreciative of the woman who was effectively her warden, for even entertaining the idea of helping her.

“Now, if that is all. Octavia,” she turned to the woman behind her, and Octavia stood straight, waiting for the command. “Please escort Clarke to her new home.”

Octavia nodded once. “This way, _skaigada_ ,” she motioned to Clarke.

Clarke rolled her eyes, but followed anyway. When they were out of the meeting hall, they turned left down a path that wound around the building and headed away from where they had entered earlier. They were walking for a few minutes in silence before she ventured to say anything. 

“Thanks for the advice back there,” Clarke tried. She figured that she’d catch more flies with honey than vinegar and while her personality leaned more towards the brash, defiant side, a kinder approach might be better in this situation.

“Not that you seemed to follow it very well,” she said under her breath. Octavia didn’t seem to be talking directly to her, but Clarke caught what she said all the same.

“Well, to be fair, over the last three days, I’ve been betrayed by a boy I thought I loved, chained in a cave like an animal, my best friend is missing, or worse, dead, and I just found out I’d been traded around like property,” Clarke pointed out.

Octavia faltered in her steps briefly and Clarke caught her face soften for a moment before she masked it with her usual indifference. “I’m… sorry for that. If it helps, Luna spent a majority of those three days fighting with the Ice Nation delegates and trying to get you out of it, despite what she said about needing a new healer, which is true.”

That surprised Clarke. It was clear Luna did not agree with Ontari, but to go so far as to actively work to keep it from happening?

“Why would she do that? She doesn’t even know me.”

“Like I said, the leaders of Sonchahou are good people.”

“Except your brother, it seems,” Clarke said without thinking. 

Octavia whirled around on her feet and while Clarke was sure she saw a flash of understanding in her eyes, it was replaced by steel immediately. 

“Bellamy is one of the best, truest, kindest leaders this village has ever had.”

“He put a bag over my head unnecessarily and let me fumble my way out of that cave blind!”

Octavia winced. “I’ll give you that. He was being overly cautious and thought that if you saw how to get to our village, you might use that to your advantage and run, the first chance you got.” She shrugged. “But yeah, the cave thing was childish.”

She wasn’t entirely wrong about Clarke planning her escape, but she refused to admit that out loud.

They spent the rest of the walk in silence. When they reached the small cabin , she was surprised to find it was mostly isolated, with only a few others scattered around.

“Caris, our previous healer, insisted on privacy so she could work in peace. Your outhouse is thirty feet that way, and the clinic is that large cabin through the trees over there,” Octavia told her, pointing out the various structures. Clarke could just barely make them out, thankful that the sky had enough light left to see them. “Harper will be along in the morning to show you. Bellamy had them stock your cabin with a few more blankets and clothes and some food for you, though you’re welcome to come down to the dining hall for your meals.”

“Um, thanks.” Well, at least her time as a prisoner wouldn’t be entirely uncomfortable.

Octavia lingered for another moment before shoving something at her. Clarke almost dropped the bottle in trying to receive it, but once she had it firmly in her grip, she looked it over. It wasn’t large, probably only 12 ounces or so by her estimation and filled with an amber liquid. She looked up at Octavia confused.

“It’s the drink of our village. Alcohol, I think is the equivalent in English. We call it _ridiyowoda_. Truth water. Too much and your secrets are no longer your own,” Octavia told her with a smirk. “But just the right amount and it is fun.”

Clarke actually chuckled a little but the fact that she couldn’t really remember the last time she really laughed, she ended it a little sadly.

“Welcome to Sonchahou, _skaigada_.”

“You can call me Clarke, you know.”

Octavia looked at her appraisingly for a moment, before extending her arm out to Clarke, which she took with her own. “Octavia.”

The woman turned to leave down the path they’d come and Clarke watched her go for a moment before steeling herself to head inside. She took a deep breath and pushed the door open.

It wasn’t large, a bed in the corner, piled high with blankets and pelts, a small table next to it, and a trunk at its foot. A fireplace sat in the opposite corner with a rug and two chairs in front of it and a stack of firewood next to it. The other corner to her left held a small kitchen. A sink, cabinet, and counter, a few dishes and cups, and a table with two chairs. 

Two of everything, like she wasn’t completely alone.

She walked over to the bed and sat down, surprised at how comfortable it was. The silence was deafening. 

“What the hell am I gonna do?” she asked to the empty cabin. Clarke looked down at the bottle in her hands and swirled the liquid around a bit. She popped the cork out and took a long swig before she could think twice. She felt it flow through her body and warm her limbs. She felt the tendrils start to numb the various aches and pains of her worn down body, including her wrists, which had started to throb steadily over the past couple of hours. They could wait until the morning.

She took another drink, then re-corked it, not wanting to waste it. She clutched it to her chest and laid her head down on the pillow, curling up. Wells and her parents flashed through her mind’s eye. Even Monty and Miller as well, who she had gotten closer to over the last 7 months as well. She missed them. She missed the friendship, the feeling that someone cared. 

Before she knew it, tears started leaking from her eyes, despite how hard she tried to hold them back. 

Tomorrow. Tomorrow she would be strong, and unyielding. She would wear her armor and fight this battle, however long it would last.

But tonight… she would give herself tonight. She would give herself tonight to allow the dread and sadness over her situation to express itself. The last thing she thought of before sobbing herself to sleep was how glad she was that her cabin was too far away for anyone to hear her cries.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Just as note, though there is no Bellamy POV in this first chapter, the rest of the chapters will have both Bellamy and Clarke POVs in them.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> Here's the next chapter! I'm blown away by the response to the first chapter and I'm so looking forward to sharing this journey with you all!
> 
> Just as a heads up, I use dashes ---- to denote breaks in time, but keeping with the same POV, but asterisk *** to denote POV changes.
> 
> Enjoy!!

“Clarke?” an unfamiliar voice asked through the door. Clarke opened her eyes to the sun streaming in through the shutters on the window of her cabin. She looked around confused for a moment at her surroundings before it came flooding back to her. 

Clarke groaned and collapsed back into her pillow, not ready to face whatever horrors this day would surely have in store for her.

Damn she missed coffee.

The knock sounded a few more times and she finally dragged herself off the bed and trodded over to the door. “I’m coming,” she mumbled.

She flung the door open wide, squinting to see in the brightness. The woman that stood in front of her was about average height and pretty, dirty blonde hair that she had down in waves, and big round eyes. 

“Hi! I’m Harper,” the woman said cheerfully.

“Clarke,” she said back. She turned from the door, leaving it open as the invitation for Harper to follow her inside. Clarke immediately went to the kitchen and pulled open the cabinets to rummage through it for food and as if on cue, her stomach rumbled loudly. She heard Harper sit down at the table. 

“I can take you to the dining hall to get something if you’d like?” Harper offered and Clarke felt a pang go through her. She seemed nice and kind and as far as Clarke knew, she wasn’t a part of this, so didn’t deserve to be subjected to Clarke’s frustration.

“It’s fine,” Clarke dismissed her. The last thing she wanted was to be the object of all the stares and jeers that she was sure to get from the village’s residents. “We can get going as soon as I - aha!” She exclaimed, pulling out two jars, one with dried jerky and one with dried fruit. She unscrewed both and shoved some into her mouth a little unceremoniously.

Harper chuckled a little. “When was the last time you ate?” she asked.

Clarke closed her eyes and counted back a little. “Breakfast yesterday? I think Octavia brought me something in the cave when I woke up. But I wouldn’t know exactly since I had no real concept of day and night in there anyway,” she told the woman with a shrug.

Harper shifted a little uncomfortably. “ _Moba_ , Clarke,” she apologized. 

Clarke shrugged again and turned the motion into rolling her neck around. The bed was a far cry better than the cave floor or the ground she’d been sleeping on the last month, but her muscles still screamed. 

As soon as she allowed herself to feel the ache, the injuries on her wrist dragged her attention to them. Clarke set the jars down on the table and tried to examine them closer. They weren’t infected, but they were angry and she was definitely going to have to put some kind of ointment and wrap on them if she wanted it to stay that way.

Harper followed her gaze down and gasped. “Shit, Clarke! Let’s get those wrapped,” she insisted, standing and reaching for her.

Clarke recoiled as if the touch burned, and a flash of hurt crossed Harper’s face. Clarke sighed, “Thanks, but I can take care of it. Let’s just get going.”

She turned to the sink and pumped some water into a glass and gulped it greedily down and wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. She probably looked like a hot mess after not having bathed in three days and crying herself to sleep last night. She could feel her hair tangled into something that probably resembled a bird’s nest and her eyes ached so she was sure they were at the very least red-rimmed, but she couldn’t find it in herself to care, and Harper was too kind to mention anything.

They walked up the short path to the clinic, and Harper opened the door for her.

Three beds were set up along one wall, with curtains hanging from the roof separating them and a chair next to each. Along the wall in the back a row of cabinets and countertops had been built in. There was a large sink and a large tub in the other corner and a fireplace to Clarke’s right in the front. It was a decent set up but what Clarke wouldn’t give for some technology and machinery in the place.

Harper walked out in front of her, heading back towards the cabinet. “All of our dry supplies are stored in this one, herbs in this one, and tools in this one,” Harper told her, pointing out each one. “Down below the counters are the liquids, cleansers, previously boiled water, and extract from the red seaweed,” she told Clarke. Like she had any idea what red seaweed was used for.

“Red seaweed?” she asked. 

“Yeah, it acts as a coagulant and a disinfectant. It’s saved many lives since we discovered it’s use. By extracting the juices, we can also brew tea. It’s especially helpful during the winter when _haknes_ hits.”

“ _Haknes_?” she asks again, dumbly. “I don’t think I’ve heard that word before.”

“It is an illness that occurs usually when it gets cold. Runny noses, sore throat, fever, chills.”

“Oh, the flu.”

Harper just nodded, though Clarke was sure the word ‘flu’ was just as foreign to her as _haknes_ was to Clarke.

“So we have four pregnant women currently in this village, only one is near the end, due in a month or so. Other than that, we just have a steady stream of regular issues,” Harper told her. “Only sometimes do we get hunters who’ve been hurt in the hunt, or warriors who’ve been injured in a fight.”

“Got it.” Clarke walked over to the cabinets and pulled out some herbs and bandages. 

She ground a couple of the ones she knew would help her wrists into a poultice and applied it thinly. She winced at the contact, but gritted her teeth and bore it. Once the bandages were secured, she spent some time memorizing the room, knowing that in a real emergency, she’d need to be fast and act without hesitation. Harper milled quietly around the room, starting a fire, despite the warm weather outside, leaving Clarke to her inventory, and answering questions when Clarke asked. 

A few hours later, Harper announced that she was going to take a stroll through the village to see if anyone needed any help with anything since the clinic was mostly quiet. She asked if Clarke wanted to go with her, that she would be happy to give her a tour, but Clarke declined for the same reason she didn’t want to go to the dining hall for breakfast. She had no interest in being gawked at.

After she left, Clark sunk in front of the fireplace, enjoying the heat on her skin, even if it burned a little and made her sweat. It was a feeling other than numb or anger.

She turned her face to the door when it opened, seeing Harper come in with a young girl tucked into her side holding her arm at an awkward angle; it clearly had been dislocated.

Harper sat her down, trying to calm the girl down who was in tears. “Shh, it’s alright, you’re going to be okay,” she repeated over and over. “Do you want to meet our new healer, Layla?” 

The girl, Layla, nodded but looked up at Clarke with fear in her eyes, probably having heard who knows what about Clarke’s people. She approached cautiously. 

Harper looked up at her. “She speaks English,” she answered the question Clarke hadn’t even thought to ask. “All in our village do, Bellamy insisted on it as part of our village's education,” she added.

As soon as she bent down to the girl’s eye level, she heard the door open and close softly behind her. She didn’t bother sparing whoever it was a glance. There were no rushed or worried voices surrounding the new person, so she prioritized the girl in front of her.

“Hi, I’m Clarke,” she touched her hand to the girls’. “And you’re Layla?” She nodded. “It’s so wonderful to meet you.” 

“You too,” Layla said in a small voice, being polite, but also cowering into Harper’s shoulder still.

“Do you mind if I look at your shoulder, Layla? That looks like it hurts, honey.”

Clarke noticed the girl’s bottom lip start to quiver again, trying to be brave and strong and Clarke wondered where her parents were.

She stood and placed her hands against the bone as gently as she could while still examining her the best she could, wincing in sync with Layla, knowing that popping it back in was not going to be a pleasant experience for the girl.

“Okay, Layla. It looks like your arm isn’t where it’s supposed to be, so I’m going to put it back. It might hurt a little, but it will feel so much better once it’s back in it’s spot, alright? Think you can be my big brave girl?”

The girl jutted her chin out and sat up as straight as she could. “I’m the bravest of all my friends. I’m not afraid,” she insisted, glancing past Clarke.

Clarke smiled at her. “There you go. You’ve totally got this.”

She guided Layla back onto the table and extended her hurt arm out. Harper stood over her. 

“She needs to remain as still as possible,” she told the woman and Harper’s kind demeanor had given way to focus, sure and steady and Clarke felt an unexpected respect for this woman who has been nothing but helpful and kind since they met.

Clarke stretched her arm straight out. “Okay, Layla, I’m going to count to three, and it’ll be all over, okay?”

Layla looked at her with big eyes and nodded. Clarke rotated the arm to get it into position, and started counting as she prepared to pop it back in, “Okay, here we go. One...two…” and before she said three, she popped it back in quickly and the girl cried out, but as soon as Clarke wrapped her arm next to the girl’s body, she stopped. “You did so good Layla, I’m so proud of you!” she praised. To Harper, she said, “Hold her arm just like that while I grab a sling.”

She hurried back over to the cabinets and faltered for a moment when she noticed Bellamy leaning in the doorway, silent, but watching her with an unreadable look on his face. Clarke tore her gaze away from him and grabbed a sling from the stack she’d found in her inspection earlier and walked back to Layla. 

Once Layla’s arm was wrapped and instructions given to Harper to relay to the girl’s family, Bellamy finally moved, allowing Harper and Layla to exit. They smiled at each other like they were old friends, and maybe they were, but as far as Clarke was concerned, they couldn’t be more different. Harper was kind and friendly, and Bellamy had only ever been antagonistic to her at best. 

Clarke stood around awkwardly, not meeting his eyes, not really sure what he wanted.

When his scrutiny finally became unbearable, she turned to face him and met his gaze head on.

“Can I help you with something?”

He regarded her for a moment before responding. “Just came to see how you’re settling in and thought I’d get the chance to see the great Sky healer in action.”

“Making sure you got your money’s worth, no doubt,” she said snarkily, always forgetting that he is the leader of the village she lives in now and that she was going to need to watch her tone around him if she wanted to eventually bargain for her freedom.

“Money?”

Clarke sighed. “Yeah, money, like payment. A good or service in exchange for - ”

“I know what money is,” he interrupted.

“Then why do you sound confused?” 

He opened and closed his mouth like he wanted to say something but couldn’t find the words to use. 

Instead of waiting for him to figure it out, she asked, “Is there anything else you need? I have some things I need to get done if not.” 

There really wasn’t anything for her to do, but she was sick of him just standing there staring at her, so the sooner he left, the better.

He furrowed his eyebrows. “Luna, Derek, and Adria left earlier.”

“Okay?”

He got a frustrated look on his face, like that was supposed to mean something to her. 

“So I’m down from four captors to one? Wonderful. I’m still a prisoner,” she pointed out.

His eyes widened a fraction before narrowing. “You’re not - ” he started.

“I am, Bellamy. I am a prisoner. I was traded like I’m nothing by a man who was supposed to - ” she stopped herself, sucking in a breath through gritted teeth. No, he didn’t get to be privy to her pain. She wouldn’t give him the satisfaction of seeing her distress. “You know what? Nevermind.”

She turned away from him, trying to blink the emotion out of her eyes. She heard him take a few steps forward.

“You think you’re… what? Some brave Princess for challenging me? I am the leader of this village, you _will_ show me respect,” he demanded, clearly unhappy with how his stature was being challenged.

She closed her eyes and clenched her jaw. “I will show respect to those who’ve earned it, to those I trust. I do not trust you.”

She turned to face him again, allowing her fury and steel to enter to her expression so that he would understand that she wasn’t going to back down and was not someone who cowered or bowed to anybody.

He opened his mouth, probably to argue with her some more, but the door to the clinic opened then to Harper returning from dropping Layla off to her family. 

“Her family said to say thank…” Harper began, but trailed off when she noticed Clarke and Bellamy in their stand-off. “Everything okay here?” she asked, tentatively. When she placed her arm on Bellamy’s elbow his gaze snapped sideways to her and he gave her a grim smile. 

“Yes, of course. I’m glad Layla is doing better, I’ll stop by later to check on her. Well done, both of you,” he said somewhat reluctantly.

“Just doing what I’m supposed to,” she said tensely back. It was a lot more than that for her though. Healing and helping people was never something she did only because she was _supposed_ to. It was something she loved doing and gave her a purpose, a reason to live. But just like before when he didn’t get to see her pain, he wouldn’t get this piece of her either. 

Harper sighed, clearly knowing that was more to it than both were saying. “Okay. Clarke, I was going to go down to get some lunch, would you like to join me?”

“Thanks, Harper. I’m not really hungry.” As soon as she said it, her stomach betrayed her and grumbled loudly. Bellamy smirked at her, but she stood her ground. “I’ll just stay here, in case someone needs something, and maybe I’ll pick up something later.”

“You sure? Sounds like - ” Bellamy began.

“I’m sure,” she said, cutting him off.

“Fine, starve. It’s up to you,” he shrugged, like he really didn’t care whether she ate or not. And maybe he didn’t. He wasn’t lining up to the praises that Octavia sung about his leadership briefly last night, but maybe she just had a blind spot for her big brother. 

If he didn’t care, neither would she. “At least something is,” she replied.

Harper bit her lip, but didn’t argue the point any further, even when Clarke’s stomach grumbled again. “You coming, Bellamy?” she asked when she’d turned to leave but he was still staring down Clarke.

“Yep,” he replied, leaving the clinic without so much as another glance at Clarke.

When the door shut behind them, there was a small thud and some harsh whispering, but Clarke couldn’t bring herself to really care. She sunk down to the floor and leaned her head back against the cabinets, rolling her wrists around, embracing the sting that came with it, focusing her frustration on the pain.

***

“Ow!” Bellamy exclaimed to the girl standing next to him, who’d just smacked him in the back of the head. “Harper, what the fuck was that for?”

“For being an ass to her,” Harper whispered to him as they left the building and walked towards the dining hall.

“I wasn’t an ass!” he replied back.

“Please, Blake, I know you,” Harper said sharply, folding her arms as they walked.

“She was the one being an ass to me, Harp!” Harper hit him again. “Stop doing that!”

“She’s allowed to be pissed off at you! She’s been kidnapped, held hostage in a cave, and forced to leave everything she owns and everyone she knows. Of course she’s pissed,” Harper rolled her eyes at him. 

As much as he hated to admit it, she wasn’t entirely wrong. Even if she had goaded him, Clarke didn’t know the whole story, she didn’t know how hard he had fought against this happening. 

This was the very thing he had been trying so hard to stop.

\------------------------

**  
_4 days ago_  
**

Bellamy had just laid down, exhausted already from the day. It was only the middle of summer, but preparations for winter were well underway already and he was making sure things were going as scheduled. His first year in charge, five years ago at the age of 20, he’d been too cocky about how long it would take to make sure their village was ready and they’d been caught in an early snowstorm and had barely enough food and wood to survive the winter.

They hadn’t lost anyone to his carelessness, but it was a long and extremely harsh winter and he swore to himself and his people that it would never happen again. Ever since they’d been ready well in advance and their winters were far more comfortable.

He closed his eyes, not sleeping, just trying to slow his heartbeat down and let his body temperature regulate from the heat, when Murphy came rushing into his cabin.

“Thank fuck, there you are,” he said out of breath.

“Yes, Murphy here I am. In my cabin,” he sighed obviously. He didn’t bother opening his eyes. “You know, maybe if you exercised more you wouldn’t be so out of breath,” he suggested, opening an eye to see Murphy’s reaction who was looking at him like he had two heads. “Okay, what’s going on?”

“Azgeda delegates are here.”

Bellamy took a deep breath before sitting up. This was the last thing he needed or wanted. If he never had to deal with Ice Nation ever again, it’d be too soon. But since the alliance had an Ice Nation commander, that was unlikely to happen.

“Who?”

“Azgeda,” Murphy said in his extremely smart ass way.

“Yes, I heard you. Which delegates, Murphy?”

He could deal with almost anyone except -

“Echo and Roan.”

“Fuck.”

“I thought you’d already been there, done that,” Murphy taunted. Bellamy and Echo had a brief, drunken, rebound tryst a few years ago after he and Gina had broken up, and once Murphy found out, he never passed up an opportunity to bring it up.

“Shut up, Murphy,” he bit out. Murphy was one of his oldest friends, having met him after Murphy’s parents were executed for treason when he was a kid. Despite having nothing to do with his parents’ dealings, he was still outcasted from a lot of the other children in the village and Bellamy could relate. He had been an outcast too when they befriended each other at only seven years old.

They survived a lot of shit together, got in some trouble, and stuck together when things got tough. He was like a brother to him and O and as much he drove Bellamy crazy, he’d die for Murphy. When he’d become leader of Sonchahou, he’d made room for Murphy amongst his advisors.

Bellamy sighed again and finally got up, striding past Murphy, grabbing the baldric that held his sword and slung it across his shoulder. “Well, let’s go see what they want.”

He approached the gate, and rolled his eyes when he saw Echo and Roan atop horses dressed in heavy pelts and weapons. In his opinion, it was a bit dramatic to always be dressed like that, even in the heat of summer, but no one ever saw Azgeda wear anything less.

“Welcome to Sonchahou. What can I help you with?” he asked, diplomatically.

Echo raised an eyebrow and smiled suggestively at him, but he paid her no mind like he usually did, and kept his gaze focused.

“We demand an audience with your council,” Roan told him directly.

Both of his eyebrows lifted in surprise. Very rarely did they demand Luna. She was a nightblood, and therefore a threat, technically, to Ontari’s rule, so Ontari tended to avoid her at all costs. She knew that if she ever tried to take Luna out, she’d have a war on her hands, as more people in the clans would be loyal to Luna than her, so mostly they were left alone, so as to not provoke Luna. He'd always wished she had _wanted_ to be their commander; she would rule with peace, instead of violence.

“And what on Earth does Azgeda want with Floukru?”

“Heda Ontari has orders for us to carry out and you would do well to obey, Bellamy, lest you be in violation of the coalition,” Roan said menacingly.

“Don’t threaten me, Roan.”

“It was not a request, Bellamy.”

They squared off, both intimidating in their own right. 

“I should send you back where you came from, unless you’re prepared to give me real answers.”

“Now where’s the fun in that?” Echo asked and Bellamy fought the urge to roll his eyes.

Murphy was the one to finally break them up.

“Okay... well,” he said, clapping his hands together for their attention. “We will signal Luna, it usually takes her a few hours to make the journey over, so you can -”

Echo cut him off, hopping off her horse. “We’ll wait.”

Bellamy finally nodded his head affirmingly towards the unwelcome guests. Not taking his eyes off of them, he said to Murphy, “Go get Anya and O. Tell O to signal Luna and Anya to meet me in the meeting hall when Luna and Derek arrive.”

“On it,” Murphy told him and he took off down the path behind him. 

“You two are welcome to wait in the meeting hall. I have a few things to attend to, but Atom will be happy to escort you and keep you company,” he turned and nodded to the guard on his left.

“We don’t need a guard,” Echo retorted.

“I don’t care. You’ve got one.”

He turned and started walking away but Echo’s voice stopped him. “Oh, and Bellamy?”

“Yes?” he asked through his teeth, not turning around. 

“As per Heda Ontari, Clarke kom Skaikru is a few miles away in a cave guarded by Azgeda men.”

Bellamy froze. His village had managed to have no dealings with Skaikru in the month since they’d fallen from the heavens, and he’d like to keep it that way. He’s had reports of their automated weaponry and experiments and he’d just as soon keep Sonchahou far from them.

“And what is that to me?” he asked carefully and turning around slowly.

Echo smiled and shrugged. “Well, the details will be forthcoming, but she is a part of Sonchahou now, and as such, under your protection. Guard detail falls under your leadership.”

“Like hell it does. What does the _skaigada_ have to do with Sonchahou?”

“Did you not hear me? We will explain everything once your entire council is present. Who will you choose to guard the healer?” 

“Echo…”

“Do not test me Bellamy, I speak on behalf of our commander.”

He hated when his hands were tied. He hated being at some ruthless, conniving commander’s beck and call. It was the way of his people, unrelenting loyalty, but that certainly didn’t mean that he agreed with everything she did or commanded.

Still, she had handed down an edict, and he was duty bound by the coalition to follow orders. And while he didn’t want anything to do with the Sky Girl, the protectiveness in him didn’t want Azgeda men anywhere near her. They didn’t exactly have a stellar reputation for being respectful to women, and sky person or not, no one should be subject to that kind of risk. He’d send Octavia, with orders not to talk to Clarke. She was just as protective as he was and he knew she’d keep the girl safe from any Ice Nation assault.

He and Luna spent three full days arguing with Echo and Roan, even sending Anya all the way to Polis to argue their case in front of Ontari directly, but to no avail. Ontari refused to budge. She wanted an alliance with Skaikru and their leader Finn, and she didn’t seem to care who it hurt in the process.

Ontari made it clear that it was to comply completely, or risk war. They were pretty sure she was bluffing, but that was a big risk to take.

He learned a bit about her in the days spent debating. She was the daughter of one the Ark (the place in space that housed the rest of their people) council members, making her one of the closest to any royalty they had on the ground and one of Finn’s biggest bargaining chips. Apparently, there were four who were to be in charge of the rest, and Finn sought to rid himself of the competition. 

This _Finn_ and Ontari were apparently very much alike. And that was dangerous. Time would tell whether the Sky Princess was the same.

\------------------------

He spent the remainder of his walk to the lunch with Harper in stony silence, going over and over those last few days in his memory.

Despite not wanting Sonchahou involved with Skaikru, he’d found himself protective during those days of the way they were speaking of the _skaigada_ , as if she weren’t even an actual person, simply a good to be traded away, her value being evaluated by those around her. Anytime he voiced his objections, however, he’d been silenced, though he knew Luna agreed with him. 

She was familiar with the way things were with his mother growing up, and she knew this was not easy for him.

Still, he found himself resentful of the fact that he was being forced to make room for her amongst his people, despite not trusting her in the least. And if he was honest, she’d gotten under his skin from the moment he’d seen her lying on the floor of the cave sleeping, refusing to get up when he’d told her to. It was like she’d rather remain chained in the cave than listen and that kind of obstinatince was more fun than he liked to admit to poke at.

But maybe it wasn’t entirely fair of him to keep going the way he was. As much as he didn’t want her in their village, she didn’t want to be there either and so they were stuck in an endless circle of irritation with the other. 

They got to the dining hall and Harper darted off immediately having found a friend of theirs. His eyes darted around, handing out greetings whenever someone came to make pleasantries. He found Octavia sitting with her husband Lincoln at one of the far tables. Maybe an olive branch would be good. And Clarke had seemed the day before to not be as annoyed with Octavia as she was with him.

"Hey big -" O began before he dragged her off to the side, dipping his head in apology to Lincoln, who simply waved him off, long since used to their sibling antics. 

"Whoa, what's going on?"

"I need a favor," he told her, already picturing what her face will look like when he asks.

"Sure..." she asked suspiciously, but clearly already agreeing anyway. 

He stayed silent for a moment, turning the words over and over in his head, making sure they would come out the way he intended.

"Can you bring some food to Clarke at the clinic?" He finally managed to get out. 

Octavia cocked her head at him, confused. “What?”

Bellamy sighed. “She’s obviously hungry, but is refusing to come get food. So, would you take something over to her?”

“Uh, yeah, I can do that…” she trailed off, clearly biting her tongue on something else.

“What? Look, you don’t have to if you don’t want to.”

“No, it’s just… if you’re so concerned, why don’t you just do it?”

He rolled his eyes. “Because she hates me, and would probably refuse it.”

Octavia looked at him with an obvious look. “I wonder why that is.”

“You know what? Nevermind. She’s an adult, if she wants to eat she can come over and get it herself. This was stupid,” he said and turned to walk away. 

Octavia caught his arm with a sigh and responded, “No, Bell, I’ll do it.”

“Thank you.”

Octavia went to fill Lincoln in and saw her whisper something to him and he turned back to face her, with a surprised look on his face and Octavia chuckled and nodded. He watched her walk over to the counter to get another serving of what the kitchen was serving that day and walk out. 

“How’s it going with the Sky Girl?” a voice sounded from behind him. “I keep looking to see if I can see her around, but she hasn’t shown her face yet.”

He turned to face Murphy. “It’s been… trying. She’s stubborn and sarcastic. You two would get along well,” he said, cocking an eyebrow at his friend, who only smirked at him.

“Sweet. Heard she was hot.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Murphy,” he said, trying to stop his friend’s train of thought, despite the fact that it hadn’t escaped Bellamy’s notice that it happened to be a true statement. Even not having bathed in a few days, it stunned him how beautiful she was. 

“What?” he asked, sounding genuinely confused.

“Nevermind. Let’s just go eat something before I get pulled away again. Echo and Roan still here?” he asked, finally moving towards the food.

“Yeah, they said they were ordered to hang around for another couple days to make sure we were ‘following orders’. And then apparently they’ll be back every month or so to ‘check in’,” he said with disgust clear on his face.

“Great,” Bellamy said sarcastically. “So glad to know that they have such faith in my leadership abilities. Fucking Ice Nation. They causing any issues?”

Murphy shrugged. “Other than Echo shooting daggers at anyone that crosses her path, no. And Roan’s been preoccupied with Roma, so we haven’t seen much of him.”

“Okay,” he replied. That was about what he expected from the two of them. “Any word from Anya on when she’ll be back?”

“Nah, you know her, she’ll make her way back at some point.”

Bellamy nodded. Anya was their war chief, but since their village was relatively small, comparatively, he gave her a lot of leeway in terms of being on her own. She was not one to remain in one place for long, but she was unwaveringly loyal so it worked out okay.

The rest of his day passed in a relatively normal manner, mainly taking care of any issues that arose and checking on their progress of winter preparation, but he felt like the day had been longer than a week by the time he collapsed into his bed that evening. 

He’d seen to Luna, Derek, and Adria’s exit early that morning, wishing them well as they prepared to cross the sea once again to their village in the middle of the ocean. Once they’d reached the beach, Luna had visibly relaxed, and he knew that too much time on land almost hurt her physically.

He wasn’t sure what to do about the Sky Princess. They had to find a way to coexist, even if they couldn’t stand each other. It was his responsibility to look after everyone in Sonchahou and he still wasn’t sure whether she would pose a threat or not to his people. Even in her willful uncooperative way, he saw her strength and her fire, and he knew that she was not going to be one to quietly obey and toe the line. 

He genuinely wasn’t sure whether to be impressed or aggravated.


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey again! 
> 
> I hope you all are staying healthy and safe and are finding lots of fun Bellarke fics during this time! 
> 
> Thanks to everyone who is taking the time to read and enjoy this story! 
> 
> I want to remind everyone that as I add chapters, I may add warnings or anything I think needs to be updated in terms of tags. If it's a warning, I'll add it hear with a rec to jump to notes at the end if I think it might triggering for anyone. If you read this and think there is something I missed that might need a warning, please let me know!

**_5 months ago_ **

“Hey, you must be Clarke,” a smooth voice sounded from behind her while she was sparring with Miller.

The four of them had mostly separate training for the last couple months, since they found out they were headed to the ground. There was a lot to prepare for, and Chancellor Jaha had decided to have them train in their specific fields before they joined together to train in other various disciplines, like self-defense.

It turned out she was pretty decent at it, and she chalked up a lot of that to her unwillingness to give up, even when it looked like she was beat. Miller was a good teacher, stern and unrelenting, but constructive. Monty was doing pretty well too; he was pretty spry and clever, which was no surprise due to how smart he was. 

She’d found out that he had applied to the mission because his best friend Jasper had been arrested a couple years ago, before they came of age, and was being sent down. He didn’t want him to go alone, and he had the skills and knowledge to apply for the mission as an engineer so he could go too. It was sweet, and made the fact that he had been chosen over Wells a bit easier to understand.

When Clarke found out she was officially chosen for the mission, she’d been excited and nervous, but mostly she was looking forward to the training. She’d always wanted to learn to fight, but there hadn’t been much need before, unless you were a part of the Guard. 

Surviving on the ground would be hard and taxing on all of them and she was glad they were putting them through some kind of course. Sending them down with no knowledge of the Earth would be ridiculous. 

What was equally ridiculous, was that apparently even the so called “survival experts” aboard the Ark also seemed to have no idea how to survive on the ground. They phrased everything in the past tense and hypotheticals, using knowledge that was in textbooks from over a hundred years ago. No one had any real idea what the Earth was like now, and that made for a much more dangerous mission than she had expected it would be.

Not dangerous enough to back out, but enough for Clarke to realize that she was going to have to think on her feet much more than she was originally anticipating.

“Yeah, who’s asking?” she said brusquely, annoyed that she was being interrupted in her sparring exercises, the one skill she knew she needed that wasn’t going to be changed by whatever environment they would end up dropping into. 

She turned and her eyes answered her before he did. _Finn Collins_ , her mind registered. She recognized the long hair and big eyes and she tried to remain her stance, regardless of the attraction that her body was trying to tell her she was having to this guy.

“Finn Collins. I guess we’re on this adventure together, Princess.”

She narrowed her eyes. She’d never liked that nickname; it wasn’t the first time someone had called her that and it probably wouldn’t be the last. She was not a damsel in distress and she never would be. Just because she was a council member’s daughter didn’t make her such and she hated the implication that she was.

“I guess so. You here to train too?”

“Not really, I prefer peace and love to war and violence.”

She tried to figure out if that was a good thing or not. On one hand, starting with peace was the way to lose the least amount of life, and on the other, it seemed incredibly naive to not even entertain the fact that they were headed to a planet no one had set foot on in 100 years with a bunch of prisoners and not even hold any knowledge on how to defend yourself.

“Well, I hope we have the luxury of having that decision,” she decided on her answer. He had kind, charming eyes though, and she tried to maintain her ground and not give in.

“I believe we will. I could never hurt anyone,” he said, seemingly so sure of himself. She appreciated his confidence, but there was a nagging feeling in the back in her mind that wasn’t letting go.

She hummed, not really having another response to that and went back to training with Miller to figure out the best way to hold her stance and throw a punch. 

Finn’s eyes never left her throughout the rest of the training that day and he didn’t even bother trying to hide the smirk on his face and the lust in his eyes, so later, when she backed him against the wall of a storage closet and gave in to her body’s desires after they’d had a few drinks after training, she didn’t think of the implications of it. She didn’t think of what that’ll mean for their working relationship. She didn’t think of what’ll happen when they reach the ground. She just knew that there was a kind, caring, peaceful man pursuing her and it seemed like they were a good enough match to satisfy her most basic urges.

She didn’t count on falling for him.

And she certainly didn’t count on the betrayal that followed.

\------------------------

As much as Clarke tried to remain a lone wolf in the village, there were a couple of people that just wouldn’t let her. Harper was one, always willing to lend a hand, asking questions about her life on the Ark, and her friends and family.

She felt bad giving her short, close-ended answers, but Clarke wasn’t planning on sticking around for long and didn’t want to form any unnecessary friendships. Her people need her, Wells, Monty, Jasper (who’d she become quick friends with as well), and Miller needed her to get back to them. She needed to get rid of Finn and try to undo this fucking mess he made. There was no way the majority of the dropship would actually want _Finn_ in charge.

Harper remained undeterred though, and was relentless in her pursuit of Clarke’s friendship. 

As was Octavia, surprisingly. Clarke could feel her walls wearing down little by little. 

Her former guard had shown up unceremoniously that first day with a plate full of food and a face full of attitude.

“A little birdie told me that you aren’t eating and might be hungry… so here,” she said, gesturing to the tray.

“Harper shouldn’t have mentioned anything. I’m not hungry, thanks.”

Octavia looked at her with a weird expression on her face, like she was holding something back, but she held her tongue.

“Eat, Clarke. You, of all people, know that in order to survive, you have to eat.”

Clarke sighed. “Fine…” she trailed off, conceding once the scent of chicken wafted through her nose. It’d been so long since she’d eaten fresh, warm food like the meal in front of her and she let her stubbornness wane long enough to fill her stomach. She couldn’t live on the dried food in her cabin forever. 

Octavia stayed with her, plopping in a chair by the fire, twirling her knife and whittling something out of a piece of wood she’d pulled from her pocket. And, unlike Harper, she didn’t try to engage her in conversation. It was a comfortable silence and the edges of her mind that she could never fully shut off, no matter how hard she tried, whispered to her how much she liked not being alone. 

Though she didn’t admit that to Octavia.

It became a daily occurrence after that day. She’d wake up, join Harper in the clinic without breakfast (to Harper’s continued disappointment), eat lunch when Octavia brings it sometime in the afternoon, stay late in the clinic reorganizing and inventorying everything for the millionth time, crash in her bed with only dried jerky and fruit for dinner, get up and do it all over again.

Octavia never pushed, never tried for anything more than it was, just two people eating their lunch. She didn’t try to ask Clarke a million questions. Mostly it was just silent, but every so often Octavia would talk about the village and her life. 

But after a week, Clarke couldn’t help herself. “Why do you keep bringing me lunch?” she asked, genuinely curious why Octavia bothered at all.

Octavia paused her whittling, a small monkey had started taking shape. “You need to eat,” she said simply.

“Yeah, but you’re not my guard anymore. You don’t have to. Unless...”

“Unless?”

“Is that what this is? You’re making sure I’m still here, that I haven’t bolted?”

Octavia scoffed. “Is that seriously what you think?”

Clarke shrugged. “I just don’t get it.”

She sighed. “Is it really so hard to think that maybe we’re just trying to make you feel welcome, maybe just try to get to know you and be friends eventually? Do you really want to spend your time here alone?”

“Octavia, I… ”

“Clarke, why haven’t you been to the dining hall?” 

Clarke was taken aback. That wasn’t what she expected the woman to ask. Or to be called out on her distancing herself like she was. “I… ”

“And don’t say it’s because you’re hungry. Don’t. Because you scarf down the food I bring you like it is your only meal of the day. Which, it obviously is. I’m guessing you’re supplementing with the food Bellamy had stocked in your cabin?” When Clarke didn’t respond, she took that as confirmation. “That’s what I thought. How much do you have left? You can’t keep this up.”

“I never asked you to bring me food. Harper did. I’ll figure something out; I always do.”

Octavia sighed. “It wasn’t - why won’t you just go to the dining hall?” she asked again, gentler this time, like if she demanded answers, Clarke would storm off.

Which, okay, she _would_ probably do.

“I don’t belong there,” she finally said. It wasn’t the whole truth, but it wasn’t a lie either. “These aren’t my people.”

Octavia lifted her head and her eyebrow, her unemotional mask from Clarke’s days in the cave secured firmly to her expression. “Maybe if you got over yourself for half a second, you’d see that we could be. We’re on the same side here. We aren’t the ones who kidnapped you,” she tried to point out. “We are under Ontari’s thumb as much as you are.”

She put the monkey down on the chair she’d been sitting on, a little harder than she probably needed to, resheathed her knife and took off, slamming the door behind her. Octavia didn’t come by the next day. Or the day after that.

A part of her was disappointed. And the other part reminded her she had no right to be. 

It was probably for the best. She didn’t want to make friends, she had to keep reminding herself. Especially with the leader of the village’s sister. 

Still, something made her bring the monkey back with her to her cabin, telling herself she’d give it back the next time she saw her.

\------------------------

She’d only seen Bellamy sparingly, since she was only going back and forth between the clinic and her cabin. She’d see him in the distance down the path though. It’d been over a week, but she knew she’d have to suck it up eventually. Especially since he was supposed to be finding out what happened to Wells.

It was the third day of no Octavia and she knew she was going to have to go to the dining hall that day. She’d been rationing her dried food, but she was down to maybe one more day of that. And she couldn’t exactly go running up to Bellamy to ask for more. 

Harper was still kind and tried to engage her, and Clarke found herself wanting to actually talk to her more, despite what had happened with Octavia. She opened up just a little, just so she wasn’t too dismissive of her. Harper was often the only company she had.

She was staring at her feet, her hands in her jacket pockets, despite the heat, she couldn’t stop wearing it. Clarke felt like she was constantly on edge and would have to run at any moment and she needed to be prepared for when that day came. That was probably why she ran right smack into the stranger going the opposite direction.

“Whoa. Where’s the fire?” the unfamiliar voice asked. She’d been knocked clean on her butt and Clarke cursed herself for not being more on guard, even though that was exactly what she had just been thinking about. He stretched a hand out to help her up, but she ignored it and stood, dusting off her pants.

“Maybe you should watch where you’re going,” she shot to him. She really needed to get her attitude under control.

“Hmm, they said you were prickly,” he said honestly, a smirk on his face. She looked at him and took him in. He was a little taller than her, thin body and features, except his eyes, which were wide and full of mischief. She didn’t get the same gut feeling of distrust she usually got from that look, more intrigue than anything. “Name’s Murphy.”

“Clarke Griffin.”

“I know,” he said matter of fact. He stood with his arms crossed and that same stupid grin.

She sighed and rolled her eyes. “Great, well, now if you’ll excuse me.” She’d finally made up her mind to go to get some food from the hall and she just wanted to get it over with. 

“You’re headed down to breakfast?” he asked incredulously.

“Yes,” she said, getting frustrated. “Why?”

“Well, I’ll take you, I was just headed there myself.”

“No you weren’t, you were headed in the literal opposite direction,” she pointed out.

All Murphy did was shrug though and start off down the way she was headed originally, walking backwards so he could stay facing her. “Coming _skaigada_?”

She stood awkwardly. She didn’t really want to walk with Murphy, but she was starving and she needed to take the initiative and see if they’d found anything out about Wells. “Is Bellamy going to be there?” she asked. If he wasn’t, then she could wait until lunch. It’d be worth the hunger to avoid this guy.

His grin only got wide and snarkier. “Bummer,” he said, shaking his head. “Should’ve guessed.”

Her eyes narrowed. “What?”

“Oh… nothing. Yeah, he should be there,” he said, turning to walk forward again. But he threw over his shoulder, “Light a fire Griffin, you don’t want to see me when I have to miss a meal.”

“I don’t think I want to see you at all,” she mumbled under her breath, trying to say it soft enough to not be heard, but not really caring if he did. She didn’t even know this guy and he was acting like they were best friends and they were just on another stroll through the village.

She finally caught up to him and he chuckled, like there’s some silly joke running through his head. He leaned over to ask, “Do you even know where the dining hall is?”

Clarke clenched her jaw. Truth be told, she didn’t. She had decided to just kind of observe and see where everyone else was headed and follow the crowd.

“Of course I do,” she said like it was obvious.

“Right,” he said, clearly not believing her.

When they finally reached the hall, it was bustling with people and Clarke was instantly uncomfortable. Everyone was engrossed in whatever conversation they were having, children running up and down the aisles, and Clarke’s chest felt warmer just being in the room. Where they had made camp back at the dropship was nice, but it was cold, filled with people who distrusted one another, and despite it being _her_ people and _her home_ , this was starkly different. This was like one giant family. She’d almost forgotten what laughter sounded like. Other than a few friends and misunderstood prisoners, the dropship was filled with animosity. 

And there was Bellamy in the middle of it all with a child, presumably his own by how much she resembled him, perched up on his lap. He was talking to Octavia and a man just across from them who was probably the largest man in the entire room. Without the scowl on his face that he had on every time she’d been around him, he looked almost friendly. She realized that she’d been staring when he suddenly let out a bark of laughter and she snapped out of the reverie she had been in. 

She spun on her heels, deciding that it was all too much and she wasn’t really all that hungry anyway, and that she would just catch Bellamy at a different time, but she felt a hand lightly on her elbow and it surprised her so much that she almost jumped out of her skin. 

“You okay?” Murphy asked, surprisingly soft, considering his snarky tone from earlier. She hadn’t even realized he was still standing next to her.

“Um, yeah. I just need some air.”

She rushed outside and around the corner, collapsing down on the ground, gasping for breath. She wasn’t even sure where this came from. She took a few deep breaths and stood, getting ready to head back, when she saw out of the corner of her eye Bellamy leaning against the entrance, arms folded, like he had been back at the cave. The scowl was still missing, but his face remained mostly blank, if a little concerned and curious. 

“Murphy told me you were out here.”

She hummed, but remained silent, unsure how much he had seen. She wanted him to know nothing of the panic she had just felt. Whether she wanted to do this or not at that moment, it looked like Murphy had given her no way out.

She straightened herself up, making sure her expression was one that projected confidence and strength and faced him.

***

Bellamy saw the very moment, the very _second_ her walls went up when she saw him standing there. When Murphy had strode in and pulled him aside, away from one of the village children, Madi, and his sister and brother-in-law, he was instantly at alert. Murphy wasn’t usually one to be too serious, so when Bellamy had caught wind of the concern on his face, he paid attention.

When he’d told him that Clarke had finally made her way down to dine with all of them, he’d rolled his eyes. It was about time that she did. Murphy then explained that she looked nervous the entire way down, though she was trying to hide it, and once she’d stepped inside, her hands had started trembling and she’d bolted around the side of the building. 

While a small part of him wasn’t overly concerned with the Sky Princess’s drama, there was another part of him that he couldn’t shake that knew he should at least peek around the building to see if she’d stuck around. 

He’d walked outside and instantly heard the gasps for breath she was making, and he recognized the anxiety attack immediately. His body itched to get closer, to help in some way, but instead he forced his body into staying still, letting her ride it out on her own. She wouldn’t want his help anyway. He trapped his body within his arms, folding them across his chest to maintain control over the urge. They’re encounters with each other had been nothing other than frustrating and as much as he’d like to change that eventually, he knew she would want her space.

She hadn’t seen him, maybe wasn’t even intending on coming back inside at all, but when she turned to see him standing there, he saw the panic flash across her face that he might have seen what had just transpired. Then he saw her force her expression to return to indifference and her shoulders tense like she was ready for a fight. 

“Murphy told me you were out here,” he tried to explain. 

She hummed nervously and darted her eyes around, and he noticed her fingers twitching at her side, like they were itching to fidget with something but coming up empty. He reluctantly was able to relate to that. He’d gotten into all kinds of trouble as a kid until his mother had helped show him a way to focus all of that energy into something productive.

“The Princess finally decided to grace us with her presence, did she?” he said cheekily, meaning for it to be a joke more than anything to break the ice, but it didn’t exactly have the desired effect.

Her gaze shot up at him in ice. It was a low blow, he knew it and had almost regretted it the second he’d said it, but he couldn’t help it and he couldn’t back down now. He still didn’t trust her, didn’t want her - or any sky person - in his village, and apparently that distrust decided to present itself in snark form.

Her eyes were blue, impossibly so, but it was a cold blue and gave nothing away. That was possibly one of the most infuriating things about her. Usually, he had a good read on people. It’s part of what made him a half decent leader. He could imagine a time that the blue of her irises were lighter, more peaceful, but he wondered how long it had been since she’d allowed them to hold that. He didn’t pity her, he tried not to give pity to people, but he did feel a little sadness for her and the situation she was in. 

“Your wrists healing okay?” he asked, trying to extend an olive branch after noticing that while her wrists didn't have the large wraps around them from the last time he saw her, she still kept them covered. 

He still didn’t know why she had been looking for him, though he had a decent idea, but she wasn’t saying anything and it was only serving to grate on his nerves further. Still, he was committed to trying to be nice to her.

“They’re almost healed. I’ll be fine,” she responded, fiddling with the bandages. “No thanks to you,” she added under her breath, so soft he was sure that it wasn’t intended for his ears, but his hearing was more exceptional than most. It was a cheap shot and he could tell she knew it by the slight cringe her features took on.

He groaned audibly, intentionally revealing that he’d heard her mumbling. “Look, I’m sorry, okay? We didn’t really have a choice.”

Her eyebrows shot up. “Didn’t have a choice? Yes, that’s right, _you’re_ the one without a choice in this whole situation!”

“Oh please just stop. I understand that your end of the deal is worse than mine, but we were _both_ forced into a situation neither of us wanted and I have to let you live among my people when I’m not sure I can even trust you, and you have to live among people you don’t trust. Now we can either make the best of it, or continue ignoring and avoiding each other for the rest of however long Ontari decides this arrangement will last.” Then, just to further prove his point over how ridiculous her stubbornness was, he added, “You’re going to starve or get sick if you don’t stop isolating yourself and start eating regular food.”

She let out a dry, menacing chuckle and he really couldn’t remember the last time he’d gone toe to toe with someone so harshly. It was both refreshing and infuriating at the same time. 

“Why do you even care whether I starve or get sick? And you may be the leader to these people, but you are _not_ my leader. I don’t need your protection. I don’t need your help. I can take care of myself,” she said resolutely, looking him right in the eye, moving forward a few paces in challenge.

“Right. You did a fantastic job of that when you got kidnapped,” he snapped without thinking, biting his tongue straight after, and closed his eyes to admonish himself for that one.

It seemed to trigger something in her mind, because she asked suddenly, “Wells! I was coming to ask you if you’d found out what happened to him. You were supposed to be looking into it.” She asked him in a manner that was clearly accusatory, like she didn’t believe that he would actually follow through on what Luna promised her.

Not being able to help himself, “Actually, I believe Luna said _she_ would look into it.”

Her eyes widened just a fraction, but somehow it was enough to add fire to the ice that was already there, if that was even possible. He might actually feel fear at the sight of it if it wasn’t so damn intriguing. Usually only O dared shoot him a gaze as deadly as that one.

“Relax. I asked about him to the delegates that were here earlier this week. The guards that did the kidnapping had already gone back to Polis and they said that they would send word if Ontari okayed it.”

It was a simple request for information, but of course Ontari has to have her hand in every single fucking thing. 

“Let me know the moment you hear anything,” she nodded at him, clearly done with this conversation, if he could call it that. 

“Can’t do that,” he responded with a smirk. 

“Why the fuck not?” she demanded. 

He wondered if Harper was right in saying that he’d wandered too far into asshole territory with her because he couldn’t seem to stop poking at her. For someone who was literally just advocating for making the best of it, he was doing a shitty job at it.

“I heard back already last night,” he said shrugging.

“And you’re only telling me now?”

“I didn’t find out until way too late. It’s breakfast time, for fuck’s sake. I was going to head over to the clinic after I finished.”

She looked as irritated as he felt. Well, at least the feeling was mutual.

“Don’t just stand looking like an idiot! Is he okay?” she asked, the worry evident in her expression. 

His eyes narrowed at her calling him an idiot, even if he did kind of deserve it, but he let it fall because of how concerned he sounded. He wasn’t sure who Wells was to her, considering she’d implied that her and Finn were a thing, but it was clear that he was important and she was worried. He should’ve just gone to her the night before, no matter how late it was.

“He’s fine. He tried to put up a fight with the Ice Nation warriors who took you, but they knocked him out quickly, so he was only slightly injured when one of them returned him to your village.”

“He’s back at the dropship?” She asked, looking confused. “Has he been trying to contact me?”

“I have no idea. I’ve told you all I know,” he told her softly. While she was being antagonistic towards him, it didn’t escape his notice how her tone had taken on a hurt quality, unintentionally, he was sure, and he had to admit that he felt for her. He didn’t want to necessarily bring attention to it though, as he was sure the hurt that slipped past her carefully constructed walls was accidental and she’d reinforced those walls the instant she realized it. 

But still, it wouldn’t hurt to show her an ounce of kindness.

“I’m sure that he’s tried, and has been blocked by your leader.”

She hummed, looking off behind him and it might have been the sun and he might have been seeing things, but her eyes looked just fractionally wetter than they had a moment ago.

“Clarke…” he started, taking a step towards her. 

“No. I’m fine. I need to… get back to the clinic. One of the pregnant women is coming in for a check up and I need to make sure everything is ready,” she told him distractedly, still not quite looking at him. She moved to rush past him, but he reached out to grab her elbow, stopping her right next to him.

She looked up at him and him down at her, and that time he was sure he wasn’t imagining the tears that had started wetting her eyelashes, but hadn’t quite been released down her cheeks yet. 

“What about breakfast? Weren’t you going to eat something?” he asked, lowering his voice.

She looked away from his face, and instead down at his hand around her arm and like she was just then noticing that he was holding on to her, tore her arm from his grasp. “I’m not hungry anymore,” she said, a little sad. “Please, just… leave me alone.”

She continued walking away and Bellamy stared after her, watching as she dipped her head low as she walked, no longer in a rush. She just looked lost. 

Bellamy walked back into the dining hall. He slumped down on the bench and smacked his forehead on the table.

He could feel Octavia and Murphy’s eyes on him. He groaned. “What the hell am I going to do?”

Murphy sniggered and Octavia sighed. 

“I don’t know Bell. She’s gotta figure it out on her own. You can’t force her to accept the people that she blames for keeping her from her friends and family. Regardless if your hand was forced or not, she still sees us as kidnappers. It’s going to take time.”

He hummed at her and looked at Murphy.

“Don’t look at me, man. I’m not in charge around here.”

“For good reason,” Octavia teased.

“Shut up O,” Murphy bickered back. 

“Well, whatever you decide to do, try looking at things from her perspective,” his sister told him.

Bellamy sighed and stood, walking over to the food stores in the back of the kitchen. He grabbed a few more jars of the food he’d stocked her cabin with before, snagging some cookies that had just finished baking, and headed down the path towards her cabin. He’d have to figure out something sooner than later. They couldn’t stay on different sides forever, but O was right. He couldn’t just force her to accept the situation. 

Nor should she, really. If Octavia was in her position, he’d be fighting tooth and nail to get her back and he was sure she’d be fighting wherever she was just as hard as Clarke was. He felt so conflicted. He hated Ice Nation’s control over his village, and he hated that Clarke was caught up in the middle of everything. 

He knocked lightly on the cabin’s door, not wanting to interrupt if she was actually in there instead of the clinic, but when there was no answer, he twisted the handle and opened the door slightly and poked his head in. She’d only been there just over a week, but somehow he didn’t expect to see what he saw when he walked in.

Nothing had changed. Nothing was different. It was as if she’d never been there at all. The same stack of firewood was next to the hearth (though, it was summer, so he supposed there was really no need for a fire), the table and chairs in exactly the same position, the dishes and cups in the same location. The bed looked like it had never been slept in; no indents on the pelts where her body would’ve been, no clothes out. He was even sure that the clothes he’d had sent over to her were probably exactly where he’d had them put, never even worn. 

The only indication that she _had_ been there was the depleted food stock in the cupboards, and the small wolf figurine (that was clearly O’s handiwork) on her nightstand. He cursed himself for not paying better attention. Just because they weren’t getting along, didn’t mean he got to shirk his responsibility. Luna had told him to make sure she felt at home and he’d failed miserably. 

But anytime they got within five feet of each other, they couldn’t help but end up in an argument. 

He left the food in the cupboards, and the cookies on the table, careful not to disturb anything else in the cabin, not that there was much to disturb. 

It’s those thoughts that kept him up tossing and turning later that evening, long past the time he should’ve fallen asleep if he was going to be of any use to the village the next day. But he couldn’t get the lonely way her eyes had looked at him before walking away out of his mind.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hope you all enjoyed that! Lots of fun as they navigate how to be in proximity of each other without killing the other one lol.
> 
> I love writing the banter... but I have to say, I love writing them soft and in love even more, so that's something to look forward to!
> 
> See you Tuesday!


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! Hope everyone is staying healthy and safe during this time! Enjoy an extra long chapter to occupy your time ;)
> 
> My family is doing alright, though I'm stuck inside with my four kids so I'm using writing Bellarke to cope lol. I've got quite a lot written but I'm not sure exactly how long this fic will end up being so buckle in! I'm so excited for the response this has gotten so far, I'm enjoying it so I'm glad you guys are too!
> 
> Because I'm so far ahead, I may give you the next one a little early, we'll see if I can get it edited quickly enough. There's some really meaty stuff coming up and I'm very excited to show it to all of you! 
> 
> Warning after the jump, check it out if you know that you need to know certain things ahead of time. When I post warnings, I try to do it in a way that isn't spoilery, but still gives a general idea of what to look out for, but if I need to be more specific, please let me know!
> 
> Also, just as a general warning, this fic does get a little violent and mention gore and blood and such because of the nature of the story, so be on the lookout for that as well, though I don't do much past what the show would show.

**_1 month and 1 week ago_ **

“Clarke!” a too familiar voice said from behind her. But that was impossible. There was no way she’d heard correctly. He was on the Ark, safe from whatever dangers were lurking in this forest, no matter how much she wished he was with her. 

Clarke turned slowly around to see that she was indeed _not_ imagining things. Wells stood before her, relief on his face.

“Wells Jaha! What the hell are you doing here?!” She said making her way over to him, and punching him in the shoulder when she reached him before wrapping him in a hug. 

“What? No ‘Hey bro, funny meeting you here, on this radiation soaked planet’? Geez, buzzkill.”

“Cut it out! You’re not supposed to be here!” she said, punching him again. 

“I know. But Clarke… I couldn’t let you just go without me. You’re my sister, my best friend. I had to,” he tried to argue. But she wasn’t going to have it. 

“You’re dad is going to kill you.”

“Not if this planet does first!” he tried to joke.

“That’s not funny. How did you even get onto the dropship in the first place?” she asked, half angry that he would take this kind of risk, and half relieved that her best friend was with her.

“Well, I thought about getting myself arrested to come down with as a prisoner, but I’m an adult and I would get myself floated, not locked up. So I told my dad I wanted to at least see the dropship if I wasn’t going to be able to go, so he gave me a tour. When we were looking around, I figured out the best way to stow away on it.”

“So when you weren’t there to say goodbye to me…”

“I was already on board,” he hesitated, looking nervous for a moment. “I knew you’d be mad at me for not being there to see you off, but I figured it would be short lived when you saw that I was on the ship with you…” he trailed off. “But judging from your face, you’re pissed anyway.”

“Fuck yeah I’m pissed! This was a risk you didn’t need to take!”

“I wanted to protect you.”

“Wells - ”

“Clarke, I know you can protect yourself, but I don’t trust a lot of these people and I figured another set of eyes that you _know_ you can trust would be helpful,” he said, shrugging, like it was no big deal that he had risked his life for her.

\------------------------

When Clarke had finally gotten back to the clinic after the disaster at the dining hall, she downed a glass of water, trying to imagine it was something other than water; something that would fill her stomach. She had lied to Bellamy, that much she could admit. She was famished and knew she was going to have to suck it up eventually, but in that moment outside the dining hall, she just couldn’t do it.

She thought she’d be relieved to hear that Wells had been returned safe (mostly) back to the dropship. And she _was_. Of course she was. She was happy that as far as she knew, he was alive, even if he wasn’t supposed to be on the dropship in the first place.

That was who Wells was, though, loyal and protective. Her understanding of that, however, didn’t stop her from fuming at him for two weeks after they landed before she finally relented and forgave him after he saved her from taking an arrow from a Azgeda warrior. 

If he was hurt though, or in trouble, or heaven forbid _died_ … it would be her fault. He came to Earth for her. She was relieved to hear that he was okay, that he was alive, but she didn’t know how long that would be the case. He wasn’t exactly in friendly territory.

The emotion that came along with the relief though, the one that she didn’t expect to hit her like a bag of rocks, was the confusion. If he was alive, and safe, why hadn’t he come for her? Why had it been a week and a half and she hadn’t heard from him? 

It had taken her a minute to remember where she was outside the dining hall and when Bellamy had stopped her from leaving, she looked up and forgot who it was she was even talking to. His brown eyes were warm and full of concern. He had clearly seen how confused and hurt she was and while she knew he was trying to make sure she was okay, she couldn’t let him. She couldn’t let him know how much it had rattled her, how close she was to losing it, like everything else.

She couldn't figure him out. One moment he was being sarcastic and rude, and the next he was concerned. It was exhausting, frankly. 

She'd rather just keep her distance from him, instead of spending her energy trying to make sense of what he was trying to accomplish. For all she knew, Sonchahou (which Clarke still didn't understand what that word meant) was worse than Azgeda, or Finn. She'd already trusted the wrong person once, she wasn't going to do that again.

She had to admit though, being around him - and the others she’d met - unnerved her. Despite what her head was telling her, she found that she had to remind herself _not_ to trust these people. And for reasons she couldn't completely understand or accept yet, it was like she kept forgetting that. 

She let the rest of the day pass dully, only needing to treat a few scrapes and scratches, and the checkup of the furthest along pregnancy of the village, Ankara. As far as Clarke could tell and make out with her stethoscope, both mom and baby were doing well, but Clarke would kill for an ultrasound machine. 

She walked into the cabin later that night, exhausted from the surge of emotions of the day. She still hadn’t eaten anything and knew she probably wasn’t going to be able to avoid going to the dining hall in the morning. The moment Clarke stepped fully into her cabin, however, she froze.

The air was different. It felt fuller, smelled unlike she remembered it had when she’d left it that morning. There were cookies on the center of the table, but everything else was how she’d left it. Had Harper brought her those? 

She’d been very careful not to make the place her own, or get comfortable with living there, so she had tried to maintain order as much as possible. She’d make and remake the bed until it looked like she had never slept there. She hadn't bothered with any fires, never even sat at the small kitchen table. In fact, Harper was the only one that ever used one of the chairs at all, the first day she’d shown up. Clarke had even gone so far as to wash and rewash the same clothes that she’d arrived with, only using the undergarments that had been in the trunk, not able to help herself to some small measure of comfort. She hadn’t even drawn anything, even though her fingers were itching for some sort of drawing medium and paper. 

It felt like a sixth sense. Like she wasn’t alone, she could almost sense some other presence. The cabin was warmer somehow, but not in any obvious way, like the weather. The room smelled like honey and pine trees with a hint of salt water, like she’d just been to the beach on the far side of the village. But that was impossible, because she never went anywhere other than her cabin, the clinic, the outhouse, and the dining hall that one time.

It was familiar, but she couldn’t quite put her finger on it. 

Clarke carefully walked around the small space, like if she circled it for the tenth time, she’d figured it out. When her legs felt too tired and weak and the sun had stopped giving the cabin it’s light, she sighed and walked to the kitchen to see if she could dig any food at all out of the mostly empty jars to tie her over until morning.

Except, none of them were empty.

Clarke stopped dead. Was she really so hungry that she was hallucinating food at this point? Did she black out and get more somehow? She reached out a hand and grabbed at the nearest jar, carefully though, like it wasn’t really there and her hand would just flow right through it. 

It didn’t though. Her fingers wrapped around the jar and she pulled it out and moved to sit at the table for the first time, dragging the cookies over to sit next to the jar. She ran her thumb over the smooth glass surface, marveling at the dried apples inside, trying dumbly to figure out how they all got there, other than the most obvious way. 

Clarke sighed, and closed her eyes, allowing one, just one, tear to fall from her eyes. Her emotions were so conflicting. Sonchahou certainly didn’t act like kidnappers and what Bellamy said earlier wasn’t entirely inaccurate, even if she had let her temper get the best of her and threw it back at him. To her understanding, his hands were tied by Ontari, who she knew to be ruthless and deadly. 

Still, it wasn’t like he was exactly friendly. The others she had spent time with though, Harper, Octavia were comfortable and warm to be around in different ways. Harper was warm like sunshine, and Octavia was warm like a bonfire, but still, they had made an effort, tried to help her make the best of it. 

Then it clicked; the scent filling her nose was the same one she’d smelled when he’d stopped her from storming past him earlier, and they had stood closer than they ever had before. He had left the food here. 

She collapsed into bed that night with a full stomach of dried apples and jerky and cookies, trying not to think about why in the world he would do that when it was clear he didn’t really want anything to do with her. She had to survive, had to keep her guard up. But it was getting harder and harder to do that when now even Bellamy had done something nice for her. 

Something about surviving triggered a memory of her last interactions with her parents before she left for the ground.

\------------------------

**1.5 months ago**

“You can still change your mind you know,” Abby told her for the seventh time since she’d woken up that morning. 

“Mom,” Clarke said, rolling her eyes.

“Abby, honey. It’s going to be okay,” her dad said, wrapping an arm around her mother’s shoulders. And like it was an automatic response, her mother dropped her head down on her dad’s chest. It was sweet, and Clarke wanted to commit that image to her memory, knowing that it would be at least six months before she’d get to see that again.

And that was assuming they’d survive on the ground at all. It was not a given that the radiation had cleared enough for them to be able to live. It was not a given that they’d be able to grow anything, or endure any such harsh conditions. They’d done training to the best of their ability, but there were just no guarantees and Clarke was sure she’d be able to train for years more and still not be completely prepared.

Abby wiped away a tear that had fallen from her eyes and wrapped her thin arms around Clarke’s neck. Clarke in turn wrapped her arms around her mother's waist, nuzzling into her shoulder like she’d done when she was a little girl. 

“Okay. Remember your training. Find water immediately and make sure Finn gets those seeds planted as soon as possible. Make sure to test the air before you step out, it could be toxic.”

“Abby, if the air is toxic, testing it first it won’t matter,” her dad said quietly. It was clear that no matter how deeply he supported her, he was scared as well. 

“Mom, I know. I’m ready. It’s going to be fine and we’ll see each other again in six months,” Clarke said, trying to reassure her mother and herself at the same time.

Abby nodded furiously and sniffled, pulling back so she could grip Clarke’s face and kiss her forehead. 

“You ready, sweetheart?” her dad asked her. He was walking her to the dropship, so they’d say goodbye there. Abby had to head down to the Earth monitoring station to wait for the launch with Sinclair. 

Clarke nodded and her father grabbed her bag for her to wait in the hallway. 

“Oh! One more thing… I know they didn’t focus on this, because there hasn’t been any reason to expect it, but if you run into any survivors… just… don’t trust them. No matter how much you want to. Not until you’re sure. You stay with your people. You do what you need to in order to survive. Whatever it takes.”

“Mom… there won’t be any people on the ground. The radiation would’ve killed everyone,” she tried to reassure her mother, but she wasn’t as confident as she sounded.

“Right. I’m sure it won’t be an issue. Okay. Here we go. I… I love you, Clarke,” her mother wiped a tear and she knew she was losing it. Her mother wasn’t an overly emotional person and neither was Clarke, but if she saw her mother start to lose it, she would too and she had to remain strong and brave. She needed to push that fear down. It wouldn’t do any good to show up for her first day of the mission a blubbering mess. What kind of leader would that make her?

“I love you too Mom. I’ll radio when we land and get the Comms working,” Clarke assured her. 

“Right. May we meet again.”

“May we meet again.”

Clarke escaped out the door and steeled herself in front of her father, nodding to herself. She could do this. Two more goodbyes. One to her dad, and one to Wells, who would meet her there.

“Hey kiddo. Let’s get a move on. Would hate for you to miss your ride,” her father teased.

Clarke chuckled dryly. “Right. That’d be a bummer,” she let herself joke back.

They walked in silence for a few minutes, Clarke staring at her clean white shoes as she walked. She was sure they wouldn’t stay spotless for long. 

“So, I heard what your mom was telling you about survivors…” he began but as soon as Clarke opened her mouth to respond, he continued, “No, now, hear me out. You might encounter people there. Before the bombs, so many people had built shelters to withstand nuclear blasts and while they probably couldn’t sustain them for 100 years, we just don’t know.”

It had been on her mind, ever since she’d signed up for the mission six months ago. But any time she voiced her concern or inquired about protocol should they encounter people, she’d been brushed off, saying not to worry about it, there was definitely no one alive down there. It sounded like her father shared her worries.

“While I want you to be cautious, of course I do…”

“Dad.”

“No, listen Clarke, this is important. I want you to be safe, and careful. But… life should be about more than just surviving. That can’t be your everything. You need to use your instincts to guide you. If there are survivors… you need to listen to your heart. You’re always so pragmatic, like your mother, that sometimes you forget that your heart is just as strong as your head. Okay?”

Clarke felt tears welling up in the corners of her eyes. “Dad… what if, what if I make a mistake? What if I trust the wrong person?”

Her dad looked sad for a moment, like he knew what that could mean but didn’t want to think too hard about it. “Then you’ll fix it. You’ll figure out what the right thing to do is. I believe in you, Clarke. You need to believe in yourself too.”

Self-doubt was something that she’d always struggled with, being the daughter of two successful, intelligent leaders of what was left of the human race. But hearing her father talk to her like that, look at her like he _did_ actually believe in her, made her almost trust what he was saying.

\------------------------

_Life should be about more than just surviving._

Clarke had almost completely forgotten that he’d told her that. Ever since they landed, her life had been one survival move after another. They’d already lost twenty prisoners within two weeks of landing, the Comms never worked properly, even with Monty _and_ Wells working every day on it. Finn had planted the seeds, but they wouldn’t yield crops as quickly as they had hoped due to the heat. Miller proved a skilled hunter and had kept them all fed as much as he could, but they still needed to ration quite a bit and Clarke had gone quite a few days without food, just so the others wouldn’t have to.

Survival. It had been everything. As much as she wanted to follow her father’s advice, they were her people, her responsibility. So she followed her mother's advice instead. Abby Griffin, ever the practical one. _Whatever it takes_ , her mother had told her. 

But what should she do if her people didn’t even want her anymore?

They’d kicked her out. More than that, _traded_ her like she wasn’t even an actual living person. 

She fell asleep trying to imagine what life would even look like if she was living for more than survival.

She couldn’t, but she found herself wishing she could.

She certainly wasn’t getting anywhere by following her mother’s advice, so there was a little nugget niggling the back of her brain that maybe she should start following her father’s and see where that would take her instead.

\------------------------

The next morning, someone pounded on her door, startling her out of another fitful night of sleep. She was used to the restless sleeps though and had grown used to the sleep deprivation that came from it.

The pounding sounded again and Clarke groaned, but got up in case it was an emergency. It was barely light outside and she wasn’t due in the clinic for another couple of hours, but who knew what someone could have gotten themselves into.

She flung the door open, grateful that the sky was still dim so she didn’t have to squint her eyes. Murphy stood before her, with a towel wrapped around his hand. 

“Hey _skaigada_. Got myself in a situation here, care to help?”

She narrowed her eyes at him, but waved him off towards the path to the clinic. She didn’t really have any medical supplies in her cabin, though she made a mental note to change that. 

“What happened?”

“Oh I was messing around with a knife and it slipped and sliced my hand open.”

“Why didn’t you go get Harper?” she asked. A small cut was definitely something Harper could take care of, and she figured he knew her better than Clarke anyway. “Aren’t you two friends?”

“Yup. We go way back.”

“Then why me?”

He shrugged as they entered the clinic. She lit a couple of the oil lanterns for light and grabbed Murphy by the wrist to drag him over to the sink. 

“Who says _we_ can’t be friends?” he muttered as she began carefully unwrapping the bloody towel from his hand, expecting there to be a giant gash, probably needing stitches. He barely flinched. Instead, what she found was a small nick, just below his thumb. She was surprised a cut that small had even bled that much. 

“So am I going to live, _fisa_?” Murphy asked with a smirk, and she shoved at him.

“From the cut? Yeah. From me? Less likely.” She narrowed her eyes at him in suspicion. “What is this Murphy? This is barely worse than a paper cut; it’s barely even bleeding anymore. I don’t even need to wrap it.” She should be concerned that this could be a trap of some kind, but she still didn’t get that vibe from him.

“Yeah, okay, fine. I wanted to talk to you. I wasn’t sure you would if I wasn’t in mortal danger.”

Now she was even more suspicious, but still, no red flags so she’d at least hear him out. “So you gave yourself a paper cut? Not exactly ‘mortal danger’...” She sighed. “Fine. What about? You’ve got five minutes,” she said brusquely. 

“I want you to know I get it. On the whole, I can’t stand most people either. I’ve been through too much shit in my life for it to be any other way,” he started, holding up a hand to stop her from responding. “I know you’ve been through shit too, I’m not denying that. But these people who have been trying with you, even Bellamy, they are good people. Solid people who I would be dead probably a hundred times over without.” 

Whatever argument she originally was going to use got lost somewhere in her mind. So she stayed quiet and let him finish. 

“I don’t do mushy feelings and I don’t beg. But I am honest, and I expect those I’m around to be honest as well. So, why the walls? Why can’t you just maybe give us a chance? And don’t say ‘because I was kidnapped’ because we both know none of _us_ did that,” he pointed out.

She was quiet for a long moment, arms folded defensively across her chest while they leaned against the counter. 

“I trusted the wrong person already. Someone who was supposed to be on my side.” 

“Did you?”

“Did I, what?”

“Did you trust him?”

“What the hell kind of question is that? I just said I did.”

“But you had no weird feeling, no sense of who he really was? Even if you ignored it?”

She didn’t know Murphy, had talked to him all of once the day before when he’d been snarky and pushy. But, somehow, he’d wiggled his way in until he’d found the very thing she couldn’t argue. 

“I’ll take your silence as an affirmative. So what about us? What does your gut say about us?”

The whole time she’d been in the village, she’d been fighting this very thing. She didn’t want to trust Harper, or Octavia, and definitely not Bellamy. But it was like she already did trust them without thinking and to keep reminding herself to stay on guard. There were no red flags, no weird feelings or vibes.

“I’ll make you a deal. You give us a chance, you open up a little, hang out with us outside of the clinic, and if you decide we can’t be trusted… I’ll eat a pine cone or something.”

She let out a laugh a little involuntarily. “A pine cone?” 

“Okay, not my best of deals, but I know who we are. Give us a chance to show you too. I’m not worried about losing this bet,” he said confidently. 

She remembered what her dad said about following her instincts with people. She hadn’t done that with Finn and that had gone real well. Clarke thought about the decision she’d been making as she fell asleep the night before.that maybe she should start following her father’s advice. 

“Okay, you’re on.”

“I really do love winning.”

“Whatever. Let’s go get breakfast. I’m starving,” she let herself say. It was one of the most simple, yet vulnerable things she’d said and she found the words didn’t hurt coming out as much as she thought they would. She was still nervous, that was for sure. If she was wrong, she wasn’t sure she’d be able to recover again. But still, she was willing to try. 

And that her dad would be proud of her for it.

***

Bellamy was in the dining hall, throwing peanuts at Octavia, some getting stuck in her hair, some in her food. And every time she’d stop eating to glare at him, he smiled wide. He may be the leader of Sonchahou and Octavia a big bad warrior, but he was still her big brother and he enjoyed picking on her like one.

“You are such a child, Bell.”

He mocked offense. “Not my fault you can’t catch worth shit,” he teased, tossing another one at her. It should’ve gotten her right in the ear if she hadn’t turned last second and caught it without even taking her eyes off of her plate in front of her.

“Sorry, what was that?” she smirked.

He just chuckled and smiled at her and caught Lincoln doing the same next to her. 

On the other side of her sat Harper who piped in with a “Really, guys?”

They all burst into a fit of laughter and he was just about to get up and was halfway standing when the door to the hall opened and in walked Murphy, and trailing behind him was Clarke.

“What?” Octavia asked him. She must’ve seen him freeze on his way up and his smile fell from his face. She turned to look over her shoulder. “Huh. Look what the cat dragged in.” Harper smacked her in the shoulder. “What? I meant Murphy, obviously.” Harper just rolled her eyes. 

Clarke looked like she was trying to project indifference, like she did this every day, but he was getting better at reading her and saw the hesitancy in her gait and the anxiety in her eyes, even from all the way across the room. She scanned the hall and her eyes widened marginally when they landed on him watching her. They held each other’s stares for a minute, neither willing to back down like usual, and she was clearly looking for something in his expression. He saw her intake of breath and when he broke their gaze, he looked down and saw her hands decidedly down at her sides in fists, but it didn’t look like it was out of anger, more like she was trying to keep from fidgeting.

He glanced at Murphy, who was focused on Clarke. Bellamy could feel her still watching him, but when Murphy noticed she’d fallen behind, still just inside the entrance, he leaned back to whisper something to her and he felt her gaze leave him and focus on Murphy. Bellamy’s shoulders relaxed when she turned, not entirely comfortable about the way she was seemingly appraising him. 

Octavia stood up in her seat and shouted over to them. “Hey! Murphy, Clarke, get your asses over here!”

Clarke and Murphy turned towards them, and his eyes saw Murphy touch her elbow lightly to get her moving. His mind startled without warning, reminding him how she had flinched under Bellamy’s touch like he had burned her and something akin to jealousy (but not quite) ran through him.

Bellamy shook his head out and looked back down at his near empty plate. He sat back down and picked at what was left. He felt rather than saw them approach and heard Harper stand in greeting. 

“ _Heyo_ my friends! Clarke, I’m so happy you’ve decided to join us!” 

Clarke dipped her head, obviously not wanting any attention.

“I think that’s the first time you’ve ever called me a friend, Harp,” Murphy smirked.

“Well, maybe because Clarke is finally here, I’m feeling generous. Don’t expect it to happen again though,” Harper tried to retort sternly, but it carried no weight as everyone knew she was one of the most generous souls they’d ever met and that her and Murphy had been friends for a long time. Clarke snorted and all eyes turned to her. 

“Hey Princess,” he said, raising an eyebrow to her, sensing that she was getting caught in her own head about being there with all of them. He knew the look of self-doubt well. 

Her eyes narrowed at him and her stance changed as she folded her arms, switching from anxious to steady, now that she had something to funnel her emotions towards. He knew she hated the nickname and if she needed to focus on her irritation with him to distract her from the hesitation, he could do that for her. 

He saw Octavia roll her eyes. “Okay, okay. Clarke. You obviously know Murphy, sorry about that - ”

“Hey!”

“ - and Harper. Bell you know too. But I don’t think you’ve met Lincoln yet.” 

“No, I haven’t. I’m _Clarke_ ,” she said pointedly, glancing at Bellamy. 

“Welcome to Sonchahou,” Lincoln said, shaking her hand and retaking his seat. 

“I’ll go wrestle Maya for some grub. We’re a little late, but I happen to know she _always_ keeps some in the back,” he said to Clarke, wiggling his eyebrows a bit and Bellamy felt the pang from earlier shoot through him again, but he beat it back. 

“I can get some myself, Murphy, or wait until lunch - ” she tried, but Murphy just waved her off and left their table. She took a seat next to Octavia across from him.

“Dried jerky and apples not enough anymore?” he asked. He wasn’t trying to be antagonistic, had meant for it to just be a conversation starter but apparently he was exceedingly good with putting his foot in his mouth; he saw as soon as he said it that it was not going to be how she would receive it.

“You know, you’re the one that told me I should start eating actual meals, but I can leave,” she told him sarcastically.

“No no, you’re welcome to be here,” he said quickly back to her, a little sarcastic as well, but still sincere.

She glared at him, and he glared back until he felt a leg from under the table kick him in the shin. 

“Fuck! Ow, what the hell was that for? I just said that you’re welcome to be here!”

“Fuck off, that wasn’t me that kicked you, asshole,” she bit at him.

“You two need to cut this out,” Octavia told them. “This is getting ridiculous.”

“We’re fine, aren’t we?” Bellamy said, directing a forced smile at Clarke and a glare at his sister for the kick. 

He saw Clarke clench her jaw. “Of course. We’ll just… ignore each other.”

“Fine by me.”

Harper sighed loudly as Murphy returned with a couple trays of food. 

“Everyone getting along?” he asked, clearly having sensed the tension. Every time he thought they could move forward, find some kind of truce, they went back to bickering. 

“Absolutely,” Bellamy told him. 

Murphy snorted and rolled his eyes. “Sure.”

“So, Clarke, tell us about space,” Harper inquired. 

“Yes, apparently polygamy is a thing?” he asked, not able to help himself. He wasn’t sure where the question had come from, but he was genuinely curious about what she was going to say about her connection to the two men she’d had such intense reactions to. She seemed to have feelings for both Finn and Wells, and well, he wanted to know. 

O threw her head back, in what he knew was probably frustration with the two of them.

Her gaze snapped to him. “What the hell are you talking about?” she asked.

“Wells, right? And your leader, Finn? Not to judge or anything, we have polygamy here too, just not as common,” he told her. 

The reaction he _didn’t_ expect her to have was for her burst out in side-splitting laughter. She had tears in her eyes by the time she had calmed herself down. 

Bellamy didn’t think he’d ever seen her smile, not once in the week and a half she’d been there, but he found, to his dismay, he didn’t exactly hate it. It was actually pretty captivating. 

“What the hell are you laughing at?”

“Just… Wells… Finn… _polygamy_.”

“Still waiting for the funny part, Princess.”

She stopped laughing completely at the nickname. He sure knew how to kill a good mood. “Wells is like my brother. He… “ she hesitated, clearly unsure how much to say or trust them with. “We grew up together, he’s my best friend. He wasn’t supposed to be on the dropship in the first place, but he… he wanted to come to protect me.”

“I thought you didn’t need protection. That you could take care of yourself?”

“I can. I was pissed at him for a while for doing that. But, he’s family.”

“And Finn?” Octavia asked. “What’s the story there?”

Her eyes glazed over with fire and ice at the same time somehow, looking like even the fiercest of animals should flee.

“Finn was… Finn was a mistake. I let my guard down, ignored my instincts,” she said, glancing at Murphy of all people, “and somehow let myself fall for him. I… I can’t let that happen again,” she said, not looking at any of them anymore as she said it, choosing instead to focus on her food, most of which was gone already. She was clearly embarrassed and he guessed because Finn had made her feel weak, like she should’ve seen it coming, or there was something she could’ve done to prevent the betrayal.

“Love is not weakness,” he told her, making sure there was no ounce of wavering in his tone. It was not her fault she was betrayed, and despite all of their issues, he didn’t like hearing that she was blaming herself. 

Her eyes snapped to his again, but instead of venom shooting through them at him, he saw surprise and understanding. It was the first time she’d looked at him like that, and he found, like her smile, he didn’t hate it.

She turned away and went back to eating without responding.

Harper leaned over and told her, “I’m sorry, Clarke. In our language, we’d call him a _branwoda_. A worthless fool.”

“ _Branwoda,_ ” Clarke said, trying out the word on her tongue. “I like that. Fitting.”

Murphy scoffed. “ _Branwoda_ is too kind, in my opinion. For a piece of shit like that.”

Clarke smiled a small smile at that. Something was different with her, more open and he wondered what could’ve inspired the switch.

“Yeah, I’m with Murphy. He and Ontari belong together,” Octavia spit to the side. “Good riddance.”

“Yeah.”

They continued eating their breakfasts, taking turns asking Clarke questions about her life, nothing too serious, as he could see any information that they would be able to use as an advantage made her a little uncomfortable. She didn’t trust them yet, and he didn’t entirely trust her either, but she was talking, and that was more than what she was doing a week ago.

There was shouting all of sudden outside the dining hall and most of the time, it was a minor disagreement that would end quickly, so he paid it no mind initially. 

Besides, he’d spent enough time in disagreements in his youth, his quick temper getting the best of him on a daily basis. He and his sister, actually. Their mother, Aurora was loving and caring, and while he and O had a great relationship with her, they never knew either of their fathers. His father was killed in a war just before he was born, and Octavia’s father… well, he was an abuser who had assaulted his mother when Bellamy was in lessons one day and left her with a five year old rambunctious boy and a newborn baby girl. Once the village found out what he had done, they had handed him over to the Heda at the time, who’d had him strung up and hanged.

Still, his mother was ostracized for the incident by some, and treated as less than for a long time. They struggled; she worked long hours while he was left to take care of his sister. It wasn’t until Luna took over as the leader of Floukru when he was 18, and his sister 13 that things improved. Luna was 12 years older than Bellamy, but they had lived next to each other since Bellamy was born and when she’d become leader and changed things around, she made him her second and trained him for two years before leaving him in charge of Sonchahou. The focus and discipline Luna required of Bellamy gave him something to channel his rebelliousness into. 

Still, his stubborn streak never fully left him and while it served him well sometimes, other times it got him into trouble.

Murphy turned his head towards the commotion outside. “You want me to go check it out?” 

The voices had gotten louder and his instinct with his friends so near to him was to reach for his sword, his hand opening and closing in a fist on his knee under the table. 

“No, I’ll do it,” he answered. But just as he stood up, O standing with him, never one to leave him to do things alone, David came bursting into the hall, face red.

It took only a few long strides before he met the man at the door. “David, what’s going on? I thought you and Atom were out hunting for the next few days.”

He was out of breath, speaking in short, clipped sentences. “Bear… attacked… need clinic…”

Bellamy’s heart started beating faster as his brain tried to process the information. He saw Clarke stand up. “David, where is Atom?” he asked

“Gate.”

“Clarke, I’ll go get him, you and Harper get to the clinic.”

She nodded and while she usually argued with him on most things, they seemed to be on the same page with this. 

Atom was a faithful member of Sonchahou, a guard and hunter of theirs since he came of age. He was younger than Bellamy, but they were still friends and he was worried about the sight he’d see once he got to the gate, hopeful that maybe it wasn’t too bad.

It was worse than he expected.

He wasn’t even really sure how Atom’s heart was still beating, but his gut had been a long gash on it, as did his neck, and Bellamy wasn’t sure as he wasn’t a trained healer, but he was pretty there were things that he could see through the gash that were supposed to be on the _inside_ of his body.

He swung the man up in his arms as the guard that had been applying pressure to his wounds continued to try to staunch the bleeding as they attempted to get him to the clinic as quickly as possible.

***

Clarke and Harper were ready and waiting for when Bellamy burst through the door of the clinic with Atom in his arms.

She didn’t want to jump to conclusions, she really didn’t, but the amount of blood on Bellamy and the guard helping him and the lack of color in Atom’s face told a completely different story.

“Put him here. Harper, grab all of the towels and the red seaweed extract,” she directed. 

Harper was very focused and trying her best not to let emotion get the best of her, but Clarke could see her eyes brimming with tears. They’d probably all known each other for most of their lives. 

“Clarke, please,” Bellamy pleaded with her, and she wasn’t even sure he’d known he said it with the way he was still staring at Atom.

“I’ll do my best.”

He nodded, obviously trying to keep his emotions in check. He looked more vulnerable than she’d ever seen him.

They went to work, Harper on his neck, which was the smaller of the two injuries since it had missed his carotid artery, and Clarke on his stomach. After only about ten minutes however, it was clear that repairing what had been internally lacerated was beyond her capabilities to repair. She wasn’t even sure how Atom was still conscious. 

“Harper,” she said softly and she looked up at Clarke with despair, already knowing what Clarke was going to tell her. She hesitated, but eventually nodded and removed her hands from the dressing on his neck that she had been holding. She walked over to Clarke, surprising her by giving her a hug, which Clarke readily reciprocated. 

Clarke removed the pressure she’d been holding to his abdomen and went up to look Atom in the face, and break it to Bellamy, who was on Atom’s other side.

His expression was hopeless, like as much as he wished Clarke could do something, he already knew there wasn’t any saving him. She shook her head slightly and he squeezed his eyes shut. She had to blink her own tears back despite not really knowing him. Watching him die was going to be a painful process. They’d stopped the external bleeding for the most part, but since there was no repairing the damage to his internal organs, he was going to slowly pass away from internal complications and there was no telling how long that would take. 

She knew what had to be done.

Clarke exhaled sharply to face Atom. 

“Hey Atom. Are you in a lot of pain?” she asked. 

He nodded shakily. 

“Okay. It’s going to be okay, it’ll be over soon,” she told him, her voice breaking. “You’ll be at peace, and there will be no more pain, alright?”

“Clarke…” Bellamy started. “Can’t we wait to see if - ”

“No, I’m sorry. There’s nothing I can do, I’m so sorry,” she told him sincerely. She hated this, every part. She hated not being able to stop this from happening, hated what needed to be done, hated the feeling that she was letting down so many people, hated that her new almost-friends were in pain, even Bellamy. Even he didn’t deserve to lose a friend like this.

Bellamy nodded aggressively and she noticed how badly his hands were shaking as he unsheathed a knife at his belt. 

Atom’s raspy voice drew both of their attention back to him. “It’s - it’s okay. Just kill me. P - please.”

Bellamy held the knife up a little, but Clarke could see his shaking get worse despite the fact that he seemed frozen.

“Bellamy, I can do it,” she said quietly, only for his ears.

His eyes snapped to hers and what she saw broke her heart. He looked so tortured over what had to happen. 

“No, I can do it. I have to do it. This - this is my responsibility.”

For the first time, she was seeing, really seeing, how much he really did care about his people, how much burden he put on himself, and how much he suffered when they suffered. For all the conflict they’d had with each other, she wouldn’t wish the way he felt now on her worst enemy. Watching someone you care about go through so much pain, putting it all on yourself to end their suffering, it was agonizing. 

And not something _he_ needed to do. He didn’t need to carry the weight of this on his shoulders. Not alone. And whatever their differences, she could and wanted to help him with this. She could bear this so he didn’t have to.

“Harper, could you give us the room?”

The woman nodded, and moved to leave, touching Atom’s foot and bowing her head a moment before finally exiting the clinic with the rest.

“Bellamy…” she started once they were alone. Atom was still silent, except for his raspy pleading every minute or two that would surely show up in her nightmares that night.

“No. I have to,” he said again, his voice breaking.

When he still didn’t move, frozen where he stood, looking down at Atom with such intensity, she tried again.

“You are not alone. I can do it. Please, let me do it.”

He looked up at her again but didn’t say anything. So she moved her hand over the table to his, never taking her eyes off of him as they stood on opposite sides of Atom. She ghosted her hand over his, and took the knife from his grip. 

He didn’t fight her anymore for it.

When it was firmly in her grasp, he seemed to deflate, but didn’t take his eyes from her. She tore her own gaze away, sniffling a little and compartmentalizing her emotions as the weight of what she’d just volunteered for washed through her. 

But she was strong, she could do this. 

She looked at Atom, running her hands soothingly through his hair.

“Okay Atom, I’m going to help you, okay?” he was beyond responding now, consciousness fading. She remembered a lullaby her father used to sing to her, but she couldn’t remember all the words, so she settled for humming it to him, hoping it would bring him peace as he faded.

Atom’s eyes closed and she got the knife into position at his neck, still humming through the lullaby. She took a deep breath and inserted the blade into his artery, where she knew he would bleed out in seconds. Sure enough, blood started seeping out and covering her hand. She dropped the knife to the floor and closed her eyes.

“May we meet again.”

She looked up at Bellamy, whose whole body had started shaking, his eyes still staring straight at her, his expression unreadable, tears springing to his eyes. She walked around the bed and as weird as it was that she was _Clarke_ and he was _Bellamy_ and they didn’t exactly trust each other or get along, she could somehow sense what he needed, and it was something she could give him.

So she wrapped her arms around his waist. And while it took him a minute to register that she was actually giving him a hug, he eventually gave in to it and returned her embrace, grasping her with so much strength, she could feel his muscles flex, but he still somehow managed to avoid crushing her. 

After a while, they parted without a word, yet she still felt like something had shifted, something had changed. She couldn’t quite put her finger on it.

Eventually, the rest of them came back in the room, and silently David and Bellamy picked Atom up to go bury him in their graveyard, and Clarke set to clean up the clinic, letting the rest of them go to grieve in peace.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> WARNING: Mentions of sexual abuse resulting in pregnancy in this chapter
> 
> Thank you all for reading!! See you Thursday or Friday :)


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I'm excited to see you all a few hours early!
> 
> Enjoy!
> 
> Oh, also, I feel like I forgot to mention where I got the name for this fic from.   
> "Everything" by Lifehouse.  
> *swoon*

A week had passed since Atom’s death. Bellamy was still mourning his friend, even though they weren’t that close, and slowly he was working on moving on. He’d gone to Atom’s parents after they’d buried him, and explained what had happened and how sorry he was and how thankful he was to have gotten to know and work alongside their son. 

He hated that part of losing someone, of having to tell their family that they would never see their loved one anymore. It was something that happened all too often, especially in winter, and it had to be one of the parts he hated the most about leadership.

But it was the least he could do, after not being strong enough to end Atom’s suffering himself. He’d seen a completely different side of Clarke that day. He saw how well she handled herself under pressure, how she could make and follow through on an impossibly difficult decision, and he found an entirely new level of respect for her. She’d been kind enough to support him and comfort him, when really he didn’t feel like he’d given her any real reason to. 

After that, he trusted her. He couldn’t _not_ trust her after that. 

He just had to earn _her_ trust now, but he wasn’t sure what it would take. 

“Bell!” he heard O call from outside his cabin, where he’d been trying to fix the pump on his sink. They were relatively new pumps, something that the Shallow Valley clan had shown them how to do so they didn’t have to just bring buckets in every single day. Each cabin had a large barrel sitting on the exterior of their cabin that they’d really only have to fill once a week, and it connected to the sink of their little makeshift kitchens. 

He walked outside, squinting in the sun. It was late summer so it was still hot and he tended to keep the shutters closed on his cabin, which made it darker, but much cooler. 

“What’s up?”

“We’re going to teach Clarke to play _Gapa_. You in?”

_Gapa_ was a word that meant pit, and it was a game loosely based on something Bellamy had read in a book once. Back during the days of Old Earth, people had a ball that two teams would try to get across a giant field, scoring points when they reached the other end. In the original game, you just ran to the other end, or tried to get the ball into a goal that looked like a Y, while the other team tried to stop you. But they had decided to dig pits at either end of their field, and they had to either run it into the pit or throw it in to score. Oftentimes, the ball would bounce out, contributing to some difficulty.

There was also tackling involved, and Murphy always cheated and Octavia always played too rough, but it was fun, and lighthearted and he loved the game. 

Plus, he had to admit it’d be fun to see how Clarke handled the game. 

They walked over to the field where Murphy was trying to explain the rules to a very confused Clarke, as Harper just shook her head.

“Murphy, don’t tell her to do that! That’s cheating!” Harper was saying exasperatedly.

Murphy sneered at her. “But hey, at least it works!”

“No it doesn’t!” She saw the two of them walk up and ran to Octavia for backup. “O, please tell Murphy that you can’t just put the ball back in the pit if it bounces out and no one is watching.”

Bellamy sighed. “Murphy!”

“Fine,” he gave in, turning to Clarke. “Clarke, play the rules, don’t listen to me. Losing is super fun,” he mocked. 

Clarke giggled and the sound distracted Bellamy way more than it should. 

“So where are we in the rules?” he asked her when he found his voice again. 

“Well, I think we were finished actually. Murphy just decided to throw in a few of his ‘expert tips’ as he called them.” Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Doesn’t seem too difficult. Run the ball to your goal,” Clarke summed up.

He chuckled a little. “Wait until Octavia brings you down, you won’t think it’s so easy then.”

“Actually, Clarke is on my team,” Octavia taunted. “So she’s safe from me… you, however, are _not_ , big brother.”

“Whatever. Let’s get a move on. Who’s got the ball? What’re the teams?”

Harper held up the ball and addressed him. “It’s me, you, and Murphy against Lincoln, O, and Clarke. We won first dibs on the ball.”

Bellamy nodded and they got into position, each of them guarding someone on the other team. He took the ball first, much to his dismay. He knew if he went down, it would be brutal; they’d only just started the game. And O never went easy on any of them.

Surprisingly, she was even more brutal than Lincoln, who was double her size. He was intimidating and strong, but he was a kind soul who abhorred violence. He only ever played this game because he loved Octavia and she always talked him into it. 

They got prepared, counting down, and he heard Murphy talking shit already. 

“You know, it’s been a while since we played this, O, you sure you still have it?” he taunted.

“You ask me that again and I’ll give you a bruise that’ll last you a month.”

Murphy smirked and grabbed O’s wrists the second they started running, wrapping them around her back. “What was that?” 

“Let go, this is cheating! You can’t hold on to me!”

Bellamy was in the middle of his run, but he caught out of the corner of his eye Clarke sneak up on Murphy and took him out behind the knees.

“Fuck!”

O and Clarke were up again and had their eye on him, so he concentrated on his run. But the commotion had distracted him long enough that by the time he looked where he was running, he ran straight into Lincoln, who might as well have been a brick wall with how much it hurt to smack into him. 

There was a mad dash for the ball, Bellamy excluded as he was still seeing spots for the moment, but he caught sight of Harper diving at the bottom of the pile to snatch it out of Clarke’s hands. She resumed Bellamy’s dash, but Clarke was quick on her heels. 

Clarke stopped all of a sudden and started wincing. “Ow, shit, ow! I think I twisted something. Fuck!”

Harper stopped running and they all dashed over to make sure she was alright. As soon as Harper got within reach, he saw the gleam in Clarke’s eye as it focused on the ball, but he was too far away to stop it. 

“Harp no!” he tried to warn, but it ended up having the opposite effect because the second Harper’s gaze swung around to him and off of Clarke, she snatched the ball out of Harper’s hands and started bolting for her goal. Harper stood gaping at her, totally frozen and Octavia had Murphy on the ground, having jumped on his back and dug her heels into his abdomen so he doubled over. 

“Go Clarke! Go go go!” Octavia rooted.

Bellamy took off after her, gaining ground quick with his wide strides. “I can’t believe you did that!” he yelled after her.

She just chuckled though and kept going. She was close to the pit, only a few yards left.

“No, I mean I can’t believe you decided to run to the wrong goal. Thanks for the points, Princess,” he decided on, trying anything to get her to stop. 

If she could play dirty, so would he.

“Wait, what?” 

It worked, and she stopped inches from the pit. He didn’t stop though, running in wide towards her as he swept her off her feet, ball and all, taking off for the opposite end towards his goal.

“Put me down!” 

“Well, you’ve got the ball, so I’ve got you,” he told her cheekily as he held onto her tightly, and it wasn’t like he was scared he was going to drop her, she weighed barely anything, but then she started squirming and it was actually hard to hold her. She tried to offload the ball, but he was prepared for that and wedged the ball between their two bodies. 

By the time anyone realized what he’d done, it was too late and he had far passed any of them. He jumped into the pit and fell to his knees, dropping Clarke lightly in the dirt.

“You ass! I can’t believe you tricked me like that!” she exclaimed, trying to sound indignant, but he saw a small smile fighting it’s way onto her lips.

He just laughed. “You tricked all of us first!”

She pouted and smacked him in the shoulder, with more strength than he would’ve thought. 

“Damn, _skaigada_ , you’ve definitely got some moves!” Murphy told her, extending a hand down to help her out of the pit. 

“Not enough, it seems!” she said, exasperated. 

They all burst into a fit of laughter and it was probably the first true time that they’d all spent not fighting, or arguing. In fact, until Murphy called Clarke _skaigada_ , he’d found that he’d allowed himself to forget that she wasn’t technically part of their people. She was still a Sky Girl, maybe always would be. 

But it didn’t feel like it. 

They played a few more rounds, each getting more tired and more creative in their scoring as the game progressed. 

And then, as much fun as they were having, it seemed like they never got a true moment of peace where nothing went wrong or interrupted them, as David came running over and Bellamy had a flashback of a week ago.

“There’s a commotion at the gate.”

“Azgeda?” he asked, knowing that none of their people were scheduled to be to be gone.

“Skaikru,” he told them, shaking his head.

Somewhere behind them, he heard a gasp, presumably from Clarke. Which was confirmed when she came up next to him. He put an arm out in front of her to stop her from going farther and she glared at him. 

“Their leader?” he asked, back to business and all joking from a few moments ago gone.

“I don’t think so. He’s bloody and beaten,” David told him, glancing at Clarke, whose face had paled, but her eyes still held the same intensity.

“Let me pass, Bellamy!” she said, stepping forward, but he held firm.

“No. You need to stay here, and I will check it out and send for you if we need you.” It sounded harsh, maybe too harsh for transitioning from the light mood they were in a minute ago to the all focused one they had now, but he couldn’t risk it. He was worried that whoever it was meant them harm, and if they came for Clarke… she wasn’t his people, but she was under his protection all the same.

“Bullshit. You’ll do nothing of the sort. I’m coming with you,” she spit out to him.

“No, you’re not. It’s too dangerous. If it’s Finn…” he tried to switch his tone to something with more understanding, to convey that his concern extended to her as well as the village.

“I’m not some damsel in distress. If it’s Finn, I’ll finish the job of whoever had beaten him myself,” she said with conviction. And he almost believed that she would. She was tough; she’d proven that over and over. But there were other factors to consider with that plan too.

“And with that, you’ll start a war with Azgeda _and_ Skaikru, which is the opposite of what we need right now.”

“If it’s not Finn, then it could be Wells, and I won’t have him suffer without me.”

He quickly played out the different scenarios in his head. Whoever it was, they were her people and they were injured. But if it was a trap, a ploy to get to her… well, he couldn’t have her risking her life.

“O!” He called over his shoulder to his sister. Octavia appeared in the next second, looking at him for direction. “Come with us. If I tell you to get her back, you do so, without hesitation, understand?”

His sister nodded, in full warrior mode, having already retrieved her sword from where she’d stored it on the sidelines before the game.

“You are not in control of me, Bellamy,” Clarke spit out of gritted teeth.

“You want to come or not? This is the deal,” he said to her folding her arms. She stared him down, and he could practically see the wheels turning in her head, but he saw in her expression the moment she had decided.

“Fine. But only because whoever it is, probably doesn’t have time for us to stand around arguing,” she told him, her voice straining with the effort it took for her to back down. 

“Agreed.”

“Harper, go make sure the clinic is prepped and stocked for whoever it is,” she directed. Harper got up and rushed down the path immediately, and Murphy and Lincoln came up to stand next to O.

“Excuse me, you are not in charge here, and I won’t have you wasting resources on people who aren’t - ” He had to make sure they could be trusted before he brought them into the depth of their home. 

“People?” she rounded on him. “Even if they are not _your_ people, they are still human beings and they will be treated as such,” she challenged. It wasn’t really good for her to do that in front of the people who were supposed to look to him for leadership instead of her, but she wasn’t wrong, he had to admit that much. He’d realized _that_ as he was saying it. He really meant to say that he wouldn’t waste their resources if it were someone who meant to cause them harm.

“As long as it isn’t Finn or any of his followers,” he gave her and he clocked the way her shoulders relaxed just a fraction. “But you do everything I say, got it?” he asked, clarifying who was actually in charge as they started for the gate.

“Not likely,” she said under her breath, but still nodded her head at him. So much for getting her to trust him. 

It was barely a minute before they reached the gate, a crowd of people gathered around, trying to get a glimpse of who was there. Bellamy’s guards had arrows pointed to the man on the ground, who was bleeding profusely.

“Everyone _bak op_! _Gon hou!_ ” he commanded the onlookers home.

“Get away from him!” Clarke came rushing from behind him and she slipped through before he could stop her.

“Clarke, no! Stay back!”

She didn’t even spare him a glance as she rushed forward, falling to the ground. 

“ _Chil yo daun!_ ” Bellamy told the guards, telling them to drop their arrows. He kept his sword at the ready however, as he approached. He just didn’t want a spare arrow catching Clarke. Damn Sky Princess was putting them all in danger by forcing him to make them stand down. If this man was a threat to them, weapons should still be pointed at him. 

“Clarke, _get back_ ,” he practically growled at her. When she continued to ignore him, he turned his head to the side, his eyes remaining on Clarke and the man. “O, get her away from him.”

But before O could take a step, Clarke finally spoke. “No! It’s okay, I know him, he’s my friend. Monty, Monty wake up!”

***

Clarke’s emotions were conflicting, relieved and disappointed at the same time that Monty was in front of her, but her doctor mode kicked into high gear and she pushed those emotions aside. He was barely conscious and there was so much blood on his face she could barely see skin through it. His hair was matted with it and he was clutching his side; three of his fingers were at an unnatural angle.

_Not again._

She wouldn’t be able to handle a situation like Atom with Monty. 

She hoped beyond hope that his injuries weren’t nearly as bad as Atom’s.

“Monty! Monty! Can you hear me, it’s Clarke. Shit… say something, please!” she pleaded, holding him where he’d collapsed. She was getting blood all over her, but she didn’t care. Clarke pressed two fingers to his neck, and felt a slight pulse. 

“Cl - Clarke?” he croaked out.

“Were you followed?!” Bellamy barked out behind her. Despite how friendly they had just been with the game and even in the week following Atom’s death, she was so beyond irritated with him. It was like they had existed in this bubble of friendliness and understanding and that bubble had just popped. 

“Leave him alone, he’s barely conscious, let alone able to give you a play by play. He is a good man, and he needs my help.”

Monty’s head lolled back. “Monty! Fuck! Open your eyes!” she screamed at him. When she checked his pulse and found none, she laid him down. Octavia had approached from behind her. 

“Clarke, I’m so sorry,” she said, dipping her head. “ _Yu gonplei ste odon._ ”

Clarke knew what that meant, but she wasn’t one to give up.

She started CPR on his chest and breathing in his mouth and Octavia backed up, confused at what she was doing, clearly. Usually, when someone does CPR, ribs can crack, she’d felt it before on the Ark, but she could feel that his ribs were already injured, definitely bruised, maybe broken, so she just hoped none of them would puncture anything. Surgery was definitely going to be out of the question, but she needed to take the risk in order to restart his heart and deal with all his wounds.

“What the hell are you doing?” Bellamy asked, obviously curious, closer than before but she didn’t care _what_ his motivation for asking, she was clearly busy.

“What do you think I’m doing? I’m trying to bring him back, asshole, get away from me,” she growled at him, probably a little meaner than she needed to be, but oh well. 

When Monty finally gasped for breath, she sat back, catching her own breath. He didn’t regain consciousness, but he was breathing, so that was a start. “We need to get him to the clinic, now, before his heart stops again. I need to get this bleeding under control and I can’t do that in the dirt.” 

Bellamy, Octavia, and Murphy just stared at her. “Don’t just stand there with your mouths gaping like a fish. I can’t carry him myself,” she insisted. Octavia was the first to move, rushing forward. Bellamy was next, right on her heels, his sword already back in his baldric.

“David, remain at the gate. Lincoln, stay with him in case there are people following him. Murphy, run forward and tell Harper what’s going on, we’re right behind you,” he said with confidence, clearly taking her lead now and Clarke didn’t really know what to make of that. It was the first time he’d really yielded to her and she was endlessly grateful, and though her irritation remained, it started to lessen.

She had no idea what had happened to Monty or how he’d gotten there, but he was alive. 

“Thank you,” she said to Bellamy trying to convey genuine gratitude in her tone and he looked her in the eyes for a moment, before nodding and moving to Monty’s head to lift him up. “Be careful! I don’t know where he’s bleeding from!” she added.

“I know how to carry an injured man, Princess,” he told her. She still hated the nickname, like always, but he said it in a compassionate way for the first time, instead of dripping with sarcasm and contempt like most people (and previously, him) who called her that did, and Clarke was surprised to find that she didn’t mind it as much. He said it with such care and understanding, and it threw her for a bit of a loop. Even during the game not an hour earlier had been sarcastic.

They rushed down the path, Bellamy supporting Monty’s entire weight. He was normally a thin man anyway, but the man before her was even skinnier than she remembered and she wondered when the last time he ate a decent meal was. 

They burst into the clinic and Harper was already waiting for them. Bellamy set Monty down gently on one of the beds and Clarke flew into a flurry of assessing and cleaning him up so she could figure just how bad off he was. Bellamy backed up, but she noticed he didn’t stray far, just enough to be out of the way. She appreciated that he didn’t ask any more questions for the moment. 

“Okay, Harper, get the towels, lots of towels to soak up any new blood. I’m going to wash my hands off and grab some of the red seaweed extract and purified water to clean and disinfect the wounds.”

Harper nodded and Clarke moved towards the sink, pumping some water out of the tap to get herself cleaned up, but she kept dropping the bar of soap in the sink because her hands were shaking so much. She didn’t have time for this. “Son of a bitch!!”

“Here, let me help,” Bellamy said, coming up behind her. She hadn’t heard him cross the room, but suddenly he was right next to her, grabbing the soap out of the basin. He lathered it up and worked the blood off her hands quickly.

“I don’t need help,” she mumbled to him, more of a reflex than anything at that point, since even though she protested, she didn’t resist him because she very clearly _did_ need help.

“I know,” he told her back, but didn’t stop what he was doing. His hands were strong, warm, and eclipsed hers completely, with rough calluses, but still, he was impossibly gentle with her as he scrubbed. 

The second he was done though, he retreated to the chairs next to the fireplace, sitting quietly next to his sister. Though, as Clarke returned to Monty with the extract, clean water to wipe his wounds with, and fresh towels, she noticed the two siblings exchange a look. 

Her and Harper worked quickly and methodically, bobbing and weaving around each other like they’d done this a million times before. Octavia and Bellamy never left their chairs, except for a brief ten minutes or so when Octavia ducked out, but she came back quickly and resumed her seat next to her brother.

Thankfully, his wounds were mostly superficial, and what wasn’t, like his head wound, was pretty easily mended. After about an hour of working and cleaning him up, and Clarke checking his pulse every few minutes, she finally declared him done. She wiped the back of her hand off on her forehead, sweat had started dripping down from her hairline due to the heat and the strain she was under.

“What’s his name?” Harper asked, the first thing she’d said in an hour. Clarke watched as she gently brushed his hair back off his forehead tenderly.

The head wound hadn’t been that bad, they’d discovered after cleaning it up. It required a few stitches, but he was passed out for most of their ministrations so he didn’t feel a thing. As she’d suspected though, several ribs were bruised. His ankle was swollen, but not broken, and his eye and nose both had bruising as well and then the three fingers she’d seen when he came in that were broken. All things that would heal eventually, given enough attention and rest. 

“Monty. Monty Green. He was one of the other experts with me that the Ark sent down. He has a best friend that was a prisoner, Jasper, and he didn’t want him to have to come down alone. He’s an engineer. One of the smartest people I know. He’s my friend,” she told Harper affectionately.

“I’m glad that it looks like he’ll pull through then. When he wakes up, let me know, okay? I’ll have a few questions for him,” Bellamy said from his spot by the fireplace, standing up. “I need to find out what happened and whether he poses a threat to the village or not for myself.”

Clarke sighed, but she understood and was too exhausted to fight with him about what that would mean, so she just nodded. 

He left and Octavia joined them at the table. “I’m sorry, Clarke. I hope that he’s going to be okay,” she told her. And then to Monty, she laid a hand on his arm and bowed her head and said, “ _Yu na gon figa._ ”

When Clarke looked confused, Harper leaned over with a smile. “It’s a healing blessing. It means, roughly, _'You will be healed'_ ,” she told Clarke.

“ _Yu na gon figa,_ ” Clarke repeated, figuring that if she was going to be here for a while, that might be a good phrase to remember. “Thanks, Octavia.”

Octavia nodded and gave Clarke a smile. “I need to check in with the patrols Bellamy sent out earlier,” she told her, glancing at the door. 

“Bellamy sent patrols?”

“Yes. He didn’t want to disturb you with more questions about when Monty would wake up, but he needed to make sure we weren’t under attack.”

Clarke inhaled sharply. “Monty would never do that,” she said at the reference that Monty could be some sort of Trojan Horse. She’d read about that strategy in the history books on the Ark, and there was no way someone as good as Monty could do that.

Octavia shook her head when she realized how that sounded and touched Clarke lightly on her arm. “That’s not what he or I meant. We just meant that he may have been followed or chased.”

“Oh.” 

“Do you want any dinner?” Octavia asked when she came back after an hour. She and Harper were still sitting there, watching Monty’s chest move up and down steadily.

“I don’t want to leave him in case he arrests again or something,” she told them, shaking her head. Seeing the looks on their faces, she added, “Um, arrests means his heart stops beating.”

“It’s fine. I can stay. Just tell me what to do,” Harper told her. 

Clarke hesitated still and Octavia stepped in. “Clarke, you’re a mess and covered in Monty’s blood. Walk Harper through what to do and then let me take you back to your cabin and change and then over to the hall for some food for you and Harp.”

This was it. Did she trust them or not? Monty was her people, a friend from home, one of the very best people she knew. If she left him with someone from the village… well. This was it. Should she follow her mother or her father’s advice?

Clarke took a deep breath, closed her eyes and when she opened them, she watched the way Harper was with him, attentive and caring. And the way Octavia was with her, concerned, but firm. 

After everything that had happened, there wasn’t a question. She was sure she could.

Besides, she _was_ really filthy.

“Okay. I won’t be long. Just long enough to change and grab some food for us both and then I’ll be right back here,” she told Harper, who nodded in understanding. “Don’t leave his side. If he wakes up, send for me _before_ Bellamy.”

“Clarke…” Octavia began. She trusted these two, and even Bellamy, to an extent, she believed didn’t actively wish harm to come to her, especially since she was part of a fragile agreement. But she wasn’t entirely sure he’d think the same of Monty. If she wasn’t here and Bellamy decided Monty was more trouble than he was worth, she wasn’t sure she could handle that.

“No. That’s the deal or I don’t leave. If he wakes before I get back, send for me first,” she repeated, insistent, and leaving no room for negotiation. 

Harper sighed and turned from facing Monty to facing her, but Clarke noticed how she didn’t attempt to leave his side to get any closer to her. 

“Clarke. I know you and Bellamy have your issues… I get it.”

“Harper, I understand he’s your friend, but he is a part of the leadership here and while _I_ am 100 percent sure Monty can be trusted, Bellamy isn’t. Plus, as much as what’s happened, he is technically still keeping me here, against my will, and to top it all off, aside from the last week, we can’t get within ten feet of each other without fighting!” she said, trying to make her point. They were weak arguments, but that didn’t make them false. She was still a prisoner here.

“Didn’t look like that an hour ago. He helped, and you know it. Bellamy can be a grump and a stubborn ass sometimes, but he is also - ”

“Thanks Harper, but I’m still not sure I can trust him, especially with Monty,” she told Harper, and Octavia too, for that matter. Her trust with the people of Sonchahou (and she still didn’t even know what that word meant), would have to be slow going and she was going to have to be careful. 

She didn’t want to get blindsided with a betrayal like Finn again. She refused to.

“That’s fair,” Octavia surprisingly agreed. “I know without a doubt, more than anyone, even Harper, who my brother is. And I’m confident in that. But you’re not from here. You’ve known us all for barely three weeks and your people betrayed you. We won’t do that. You don’t know that yet, but you will.”

Octavia’s confidence in her brother, in her people was strong. Clarke envied that kind of belief. To know irrefutably who someone was. She'd really only had that down here with Wells, and Monty.

She smiled at the women before her, the closest thing to friends she had in this village, maybe on all of Earth possibly other than Wells and Monty, and decided that while her confidence was not quite as strong as Octavia’s, it was enough. 

“Okay. But - ”

“Call you first, got it,” Harper affirmed. “Now, show me that thing you did with his chest and mouth.”

“It’s called CPR,” she told Harper and snapped back in doctor mode, taking the time to show her how to properly resuscitate someone, or at least hold it off until she could get there.

A half hour later, her and Octavia left and got back to her cabin. The warrior flopped down on her bed, laying on her back on top of her sword and the vision of it was weird. She seemed to be letting her guard down too.

“Thanks for... all of that,” she extended to her.

Octavia just shrugged. “Like I said, I know my brother. He hasn’t earned your trust yet, but he will,” she waved Clarke off, like it was no big deal that Clarke didn’t trust someone so close to her, like she really did believe it was inevitable that she would.

“You know, on the Ark, we didn’t ever have siblings.”

Octavia picked her head up and looked at Clarke like she’d just grown three heads. “Really?”

“Yeah. There weren't enough resources or space for people to have more than one child.”

“What happened if they did?”

Clarke took a deep breath and just looked at her with a pointed look. 

“Ah. Wow. That’s awful…” she commented and Clarke could practically see the dent her teeth were making in her tongue, trying to prevent all the things she was sure she wanted to say about it. Not that Clarke blamed her.

“I agree with you, for the record. But there wasn’t really anything else we could do about it. We didn’t have enough prison cells for the adults, only the youth went to prison, until they turned 18 and were evaluated. They’d either remain locked up for another year, like Jasper, floated, or absolved. That’s who they sent down with us. The prisoners.”

It was the most she’d ever told anyone here, and while it wasn’t exactly super valuable intel, it still felt vulnerable in a way Clarke wasn’t used to. 

“Hmm,” was Octavia’s only response. 

“My mother was one of the leaders of the Ark, so I heard and saw the toll it took on her after a floating. She hated every single one.”

“Yet, she did it anyway,” Octavia said without malice, more like she was just trying to understand. Clarke spent her whole life on the Ark and barely understood it. “Feel better all cleaned up?” she asked.

Clarke nodded. “Much. But I’m going to need a more thorough cleaning than just sink baths at some point, if that’s possible.”

“Of course it’s possible, we aren’t savages,” Octavia teased. “I’m sorry I haven’t pointed this out to you before. There’s bathhouses on the edge of the village or we can tug a basin into your cabin. Either way,” Octavia told her, having dropped the Ark topic.

Clarke had asked Abby once, why she didn’t refuse or speak up. She’d just told Clarke that it was what they had to do, to save their people, to survive. Even if she didn’t like it, it was the only choice. Clarke remembered how much she had hated that answer and refused to talk to her mother for a week after that conversation, thinking there had to be a better way. That when she was a leader, she’d _find_ a better way.

And there she was, doing the same thing. Surviving, with no thought to actually _living_.

“Oh, that must be why,” Octavia said, standing up after seeing that Clarke had finished cleaning up and changing. Now that Clarke’s nerves had settled, she was able to wash the blood off well enough (and on her own that time). 

“Why what?” she asked as they stepped outside. Octavia skipped down the steps, her hands in her pockets, walking backwards once they hit the path so that they were face to face.

“Why he calls you ‘Princess’. Even though you’re gorgeous, it didn’t really make sense, you don’t exactly _act_ like a princess. And you hate it, that much is obvious. But Bell must know your mother was a leader on the Ark.”

There was information in that exposition that Clarke couldn’t really figure out how to respond to or how to feel about, so she settled for just humming at her in acknowledgment, committing to think it through later. She had many other things that she needed to focus on rather than the leader that she allowed herself to begrudgingly admit was growing on her.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Monty's here! Yay!
> 
> And Clarke has pretty much decided to trust everyone. It doesn't come easily to her, considering everything that has happened, but she's working on it! And Bellamy at least trusts her, even if he doesn't trust Monty yet. But I mean, who doesn't trust Monty?! Also, how did he get there?!
> 
> See you Tuesday! Or earlier, I'm awful at waiting the full length of time I say I'm going to. I get too excited lol.


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay...
> 
> Don't hate me...
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!

Bellamy spent much of the rest of the afternoon after saving Clarke’s friend doing damage control. He’d sent O at one point to make sure the guards were on high alert and to send extra warriors to inspect the woods surrounding Sonchahou to make sure he wasn’t followed or sent to them to hurt them.

He trusted Clarke, but he was still apprehensive of her judgement of her people yet. It seemed unlikely that Ontari or Finn would make a direct attack like that without provocation, but still, he needed to be safe. He needed to keep his people safe. That was his purpose, who he was.

That was why he’d insisted that he be the first to know when the man woke up. Monty weighed practically nothing, and had no weapons that Bellamy could find, so he wasn’t necessarily concerned about an immediate threat, but he still needed to know what they were dealing with.

He had finally made his way to dinner, famished after having joined the patrols in the woods for a while. Murphy was already waiting for him, full plate of food in front of him.

“Hey man, how’d it go?”

“There’s no sign of anyone else. It doesn’t make sense though, why he’s alone,” Bellamy told him.

“Hmm… well, I’ll leave the investigating to the experts,” Murphy told him, biting a chunk off a roll and eating obnoxiously.

Bellamy just rolled his eyes. 

“How’s Clarke?” he asked.

Bellamy narrowed his eyes at Murphy. They’d been getting along really well, and there was that comment about her being hot that still didn’t sit right with him for some reason. Though, Murphy joked about that kind of thing a lot so maybe he was overreacting. “Rattled. Apparently he’s a friend of hers, but I don’t know… ” he trailed off. “Why are you so concerned?”

Murphy just shrugged. 

“Don’t do this,” Bellamy pleaded, the begrudging pang of something he wasn’t ready to call jealousy from earlier making another appearance.

“Do what?”

“Murphy.”

“Blake.”

“Leave her be. The last thing she needs is - ”

“Is what?” Murphy asked, interrupting him. “A friend? I’d think that would be exactly what she needs right now,” he pointed out.

“You know what I mean,” Bellamy said, regretting ever bringing this up, especially when he was this exhausted and Murphy had a tendency to not let things drop.

“Why do you care?” Murphy asked, turning it back on him and _damnit Murphy_ , Bellamy should’ve seen this coming.

“I don’t.”

“Sure sounds like you do.” 

“I don’t,” Bellamy repeated, adding a shrug that time. And he didn’t, really. Murphy was free to pursue whoever he wanted, even the Sky Princess. Good luck to him, he told himself, trying to banish the little pang again that told him he _did_ care.

“Okay then, that’s that then. I’m allowed to be her _friend_ all I want,” he said nonchalantly, knowing Bellamy far too well.

Bellamy groaned. 

“Relax, Blake. _Skaigada_ and I _are_ only friends. I was just trying to get under your skin… which completely worked obviously. You make it too easy.”

“Why?”

“Why did it work? Because I know you too well, and I know what button to push,” Murphy said simply. 

Bellamy shoved at him, causing Murphy to chuckle. “Not _that_ why you ass. _Why_ are you trying to be friends with her at all? You aren’t exactly a people person and if you aren’t interested in her like _that_...” he pointed out.

Murphy looked down and sighed into his food, tossing what was left of his roll back down on his plate before meeting Bellamy’s eyes again.

“Because I know what it’s like to be somewhere where it feels like everyone hates you and doesn’t want anything to do with you. Judging you for things you didn’t even do, treating you like you are only half a person, or not even a person at all,” Murphy told him. He didn’t often talk about that, usually preferring to deflect from any actual _feelings_ regarding that time of his life with sarcasm and snark. “So do you, by the way,” he added and Bellamy snapped his focus back to his friend. “In case you’ve forgotten that.”

“I haven’t,” Bellamy said quietly. Because it was true. He still remembered every painful emotion he pushed aside for the sake of his sister, or his mother. Every defense he made in their honor, everything he sacrificed to keep their family fed and together. He remembered friends whispering behind his back and every wall he punched in frustration over not being able to punch the actual objects of his aggravation.

“I thought something had changed with you two after Atom,” Murphy said a little quieter. “You guys were finally getting along. Look at the _Gapa_ game earlier.”

“We were. Are. I don’t know. We _were_ fine. Better. She’s… I don’t know man,” he stumbled through. “That man got here and we just started snapping again. It’s like we both forgot for a week about that stupid Azgeda deal and it was like she… was supposed to be here. I don’t know, that sounds stupid.”

“No, I don’t think it does. Not at all,” Murphy responded. “We’re all just trying to figure it out. I felt the same way, it feels like she belongs, but if _she_ doesn’t feel that way, there’s not much we can do other than just - ”

The door to the hall interrupted him mid-sentence and in walked the topic of their conversation with his sister next to her. 

“Clarke! O!” Murphy shouted over to them. The girls glanced at the two of them, and he could see Clarke’s cheeks go pink at the attention. “Get over here!” 

They headed their way and plunked down at the table across from them, Octavia across from Murphy and Clarke across from him.

“All safe?” Octavia asked, and he knew she needed to know before she’d be able to fully relax. 

“Yeah. Appears so.”

“Told you. Monty is a good man,” Clarke insisted.

“Doesn’t mean he wasn’t followed or anything,” Bellamy pointed out to her, but he could tell Octavia had beaten him to the punch of explaining that to her.

“Monty? What the hell kind of name is _Monty_?” Murphy asked with fake mockery, obviously trying to bring some levity to the situation.

“What the hell kind of name is _Murphy_?” Clarke shot back with a smirk and Bellamy couldn’t help but snort.

“For the record, my first name is actually _John_. And at least it’s better than _Octavia_ ,” Murphy sneered at his sister.

“Hey!” Bellamy and Octavia yelled at him in unison.

Clarke looked between the two of them, clearly confused.

“I was the one that named her,” he explained in the simplest of ways.

“Oh, after Augustus’s sister?” Clarke asked. He knew he was gaping at her, but how in the hell did she guess that so easily? Off his blank look, she tried backpedaling. “Or, maybe not?”

“No, that’s right, I guess I just… didn’t expect you to get that so quickly,” he told her. Their village had some copies of history books from Old Earth that his mother used to read to them when they were younger. They were falling apart and part of what he’d wanted to accomplish as leader eventually was to transcribe them into new editions so they didn’t lose them. 

To his apparently never ending surprise, she then started laughing. “There’s a lot that you don’t know about me.”

“I guess that’s true,” he conceded, his mind going a million miles a minute.

“So how is good ole _Monty_?” Murphy asked. 

Clarke’s smile that was left from her laughter faded and she got a far off look in her eyes. “He’ll be fine. He’s still unconscious, but I’m hopeful that after a few hours of rest, he’ll wake up.”

“I wonder what happened,” Murphy said almost absently and Bellamy saw the instant that Clarke’s brain processed his comment because fear and guilt flashed across her expression.

“I’m sure Wells is fine,” Bellamy told her, knowing exactly what that look meant. He could relate; he also felt responsible for his people and their wellbeing and blamed himself whenever one of them got so much as a papercut. 

“I’m not. Without me there… Wells would be Finn’s next target; he’s our Chancellor’s son. But Wells doesn’t go down easy - ” she said, voice breaking, “ - so he’s got that going for him.” 

Octavia put a comforting arm around her shoulders and pulled her a little closer. 

Clarke cleared her throat. “So what is this we’re eating today?” she asked, obviously trying to change the conversation because they were clearly eating chicken.

“Chicken,” Murphy said, catching on to her distraction. “Maya uses this special spice rub that seriously was made in heaven, I’m convinced. She could literally sprinkle it over everything and it would be the best thing ever,” he rambled, mouthful of said chicken.

“Ugh, could you be any grosser. Close your mouth Murphy. Bite, swallow, _then_ talk,” Octavia chided him.

Murphy narrowed his eyes at her and then opened his mouth as wide as it would go, already chewed chicken on full display. 

All four of them burst into a fit of laughter that didn’t die down until the door to the dining hall opened and Lincoln came in. He walked over to their table and while his brother in law’s expression usually remained mostly emotionless, Bellamy could tell he definitely had something to say.

“Hey,” he said to Octavia, leaning over to kiss her on the cheek. “What's everyone laughing at?”

“Murphy’s being disgusting,” Octavia told him.

“Oh, got it,” he said, like it happened all the time. Which wasn’t exactly inaccurate. “Clarke,” Lincoln said, turning to her. “I went over to see if O was still in the clinic and Harper wanted me to come get you.”

Clarke bolted up from her seat, half eaten meal forgotten. “Is everything okay? Monty, is he -?”

“Awake. And asking for you.”

Clarke didn’t wait to see what the rest of them were doing, she just bolted from the room at a sprint. The rest of them were right on her heels though. 

He watched her burst into the clinic and rush to Monty’s side. 

“Monty! Oh my - thank - you’re awake! How are you feeling?” she asked reexamining the bandages immediately.

“Clarke! Ugh, like I got into a fight with a gorilla… but I have to say, waking up next to _her_ \- ” Monty said, pointing a weak hand at Harper who was on his other side. “ - wasn’t the worst.”

Clarke sniffled and let out a dry chuckle. “Yeah, she’s pretty, hmm? Kind too,” she added, looking over at Harper, who was blushing furiously.

Monty smiled at that and just stared at Harper. “So the whole package?”

“Oh yeah.”

Harper blushed. “I, uh, gave him some jobi nuts when he woke up, to help distract from the pain,” she said, looking around clearly flattered, but embarrassed.

Clarke laughed. “Yeah, he’s not usually this forward. Still, he doesn’t say anything he doesn’t mean, so…” 

Murphy snorted from next to him.

“Um, Clarke, I need to… know what happened,” he told her, not wanting to start a fight, but he did need to know. 

She stopped laughing and grew more solemn and he found himself cursing himself for being the one to make her smile falter. He wasn’t sure exactly when it happened, but at some point he realized he actually enjoyed seeing that expression on her face.

She took a deep breath and looked at him in acceptance. “I know,” she told him, nodding. There was no malice or resentment behind her tone, like he’d expected. It seemed more that she wanted to know too and knew she couldn’t stall any longer, resigning herself to whatever Monty was going to say.

Clarke moved closer to Monty’s head so he wouldn’t have to strain to talk loud enough, leaning over from where she was standing. She grabbed his hand and moved some hair off his face. It was sweet and vaguely maternal, and he could tell that her bedside manner was something at which she was pretty practiced. He saw it with Layla when she’d first gotten there, then with Atom and she was doing it then. 

“Hey friend,” she started. “This is Octavia, Murphy, Bellamy, Lincoln, and Harper you’ve met already,” she told him, pointing each of them out to him. “They live here in the village. Bellamy is their leader. Do you remember how you got here? Or who hurt you?” she asked. Bellamy walked over to stand next to her.

Monty looked around at the people gathered around and looked back to Clarke nervously.

“It’s okay,” she told him. “They can be trusted - we can be honest with them,” she assured him. He cocked his head a little, surprised that she’d outright said that. He knew she was still struggling some with trusting them and it warmed his chest a little to know that she felt like they could be honest with them. He had a feeling that she was an honest person, both in morality and in opinion and that she probably didn’t have a lying bone in her body.

Monty nodded and tried to take a deep breath, but winced when he did so, gripping his ribs. 

“Okay, just take your time,” Bellamy told him, stepping even further into Clarke’s space.

“Finn… he was having some - some power issues on the north side of the ship, and so he sent for me and Wells to see what we could do to fix it. He’s been keeping us in lockup ever since he made that shit deal with Ontari and we called him out on what a terrible idea it was. Once we made it clear that our lo - loyalties were with you, he wouldn’t let us out.”

Clarke kept her face masked, trying to not react, but he saw her grip the edge of the bed so hard her knuckles were turning white and her jaw clenched.

Monty closed his eyes with the effort it was taking to keep talking and Bellamy saw a tear leak out from under one of his eyelids. 

He cleared his throat. “We had decided to take advantage of the next time he let us out and make a run for you. Wells was… obsessed with finding you, Clarke.”

Clarke sniffled, but stayed silent.

“We ran, but Dax and Mbege chased us. They’re his enforcers now, his lackeys. We thought we were in the clear, but Dax came out of nowhere and tackled me to the ground. He was in the middle of wailing on me, kicking my - my ribs and I slammed my head on a rock when I fell, so I couldn’t really fight back with blood stream - streaming down my face,”

“Oh, Monty…” Clarke finally said, voice breaking.

“Wells…” Monty started and the way he said it, Bellamy knew what was coming and he subconsciously shifted closer to Clarke. “Wells grabbed him around his waist and lifted him off of me. He told me to run, to run towards the ocean and find you, that he’d be right behind me.”

“No, no, no, no, no, no…” Clarke started whispering to herself, sliding her eyes shut, clearly having picked up on the same cues he had.

“Clarke, I’m sorry…” Monty was crying now, and Harper had stepped forward to grab his hand, but Clarke was still violently shaking her head, like if she stopped him from talking, she wouldn’t have to know. Any animosity he had for her disappeared at that moment. He was friends with Atom sure, but it didn’t hold a candle to who Wells and Clarke seemed to be to each other. He couldn’t take his eyes off of her. 

“No, don’t say it,” she pleaded and Bellamy’s heart broke a little for her.

“I ran, but when I looked back, Dax had him in a headlock and he…”

“No.”

“Dax snapped his neck and he fell. I ran and somehow Wells had injured him enough to help me outrun him. I don’t even remember finally getting here. Clarke, I’m so sorry, I’m so sorry.”

“NO!” she shouted and Bellamy saw her legs start to wobble and give out beneath her but he was able to catch her and fall with her, pulling her into him on the floor next to the bed. He didn’t think about it too deeply, acting on pure instinct.

He couldn’t just let her fall.

It didn’t matter who she was or who he was or who was whose people, he just held onto her, the anguish in her cries making him tear up automatically. She was in pain, and he was _right there_ and he couldn’t just _not_ hold her.

“Fuck,” he heard Murphy scoff. 

Clarke had fisted her hands in his shirt, veins popping out the back of her hand with the strength of the grip she had. 

“Shh, Princess, I’ve got you, it’s okay, you’re okay…” he said, trailing off. The name had popped out of his mouth without thinking and he winced, afraid of her reaction. But she didn’t even seem to notice as she cried rivers of salty tears into his shirt and he tightened his embrace, wishing to give her even a fraction of the comfort she needed.

She seemed to realize all of a sudden who was holding her and she tried to push him weakly away probably out of some misguided reflex to not appear like she needed anything or anyone like usual, but he just continued to hold her, loosening up his grip enough for her not to feel trapped, but hopefully still enough to give her whatever support she needed.

She gave up fighting him and restrengthened her grip, clutching onto him again as she sobbed. He looked up and saw Lincoln with his arm around Octavia, who was trying to remain stoic, but had tears slipping down her face anyway, Murphy had his head in his hands, shaking it slightly, and Harper was embracing Monty and trying to calm him down. 

It sounded like they were probably in the clear, that Monty wasn’t followed, but he still wasn’t sure if Finn would send scouts out to find Monty again, or if Ontari would send her warriors to collect him. He needed to inform his guards what was happening and the different scenarios to be aware of, but he couldn’t bear to just shove her off at that moment. 

After about twenty minutes, Clarke’s sobs became fewer and her breathing slowed down and her grip weakened. He looked down at her face, and watched her eyes blinking heavily with effort. She must be exhausted. 

“Murphy,” he called softly over his shoulder and his friend’s eyes shot to him and he rushed over, waiting for whatever Bellamy was going to ask. “You and O get Clarke to her cabin. Lincoln and I will go to the gate to let our guards know what happened and what to be on the lookout for. Harper will stay with Monty.”

“I won’t leave his side,” Harper affirmed.

“Clarke, hey, Murphy is going to take you now, okay?” he said gently and she looked up at him. Her eyes were bluer than he’d ever seen before. 

“I’m fine. I can do it myself,” she said - _of course_ she would say that - and she pushed away from him, trying to make it to her feet on her own, swiping the back of her hand across her face. He kept his arms nearby in case she wavered, slightly chilly now that the sun had gone down and she’d left his hold.

“Come on, Clarke,” Murphy said to her, gentler than Bellamy had heard him talk in a while, and grabbed her elbow to guide her out the door. 

“Wait!” Clarke said suddenly and she flung herself back on the bed, where Monty’s cries had eased as well, but Bellamy noticed his hand never left Harper’s. “I’m so glad you’re okay,” she told him, hugging her friend. His other arm, the one with the broken fingers, came up to wrap around her.

“I’m so sorry I couldn’t save him,” Monty said sadly.

“It’s not your fault,” Clarke insisted, shaking her head and he saw something flit across her expression that he recognized as guilt. “I’m so thankful he helped you,” she told him, voice breaking.

After a minute, they parted, Murphy and Octavia at her side, walking out with her. 

Monty had fallen back to sleep and Harper pulled up a chair and laid her head down next to his arm. 

“You okay to do this? I’m sorry I kind of roped you into staying,” he asked quietly.

“I’m fine, Bellamy, don’t worry about me,” she waved him off. “That was a nice thing you did,” she added, indicating to the floor where he’d held Clarke. 

He shrugged her off though. “I was right there. Wasn’t a big deal.”

“It _was_ a big deal. You showed her kindness when she needed it. Thawed the ice between you two a little, I think. I didn’t expect her to let you do that.”

“Yeah, me either.” And it was true. While at one point, she did try to push him away, it didn’t seem like she meant it, like she was only doing it because she thought that was what she was _supposed_ to do. “Okay, Lincoln, let’s head out. It’s been a long day and I want to get this figured out before I call it.”

Lincoln nodded and filed out after him. He glanced back at Harper and Monty and was suddenly aware of a small part of him that was a little envious of the automatic fondness they already seemed to have of each other.

***

**  
_1 month ago_   
**

“Monty, here is the soil from the ground around back. We need to get these seeds planted if they are going to have time to take root before winter, we’ve already been here two weeks,” she heard Finn tell him from around the corner.

Monty sighed at him. “Yes, Finn, the soil will be fine. That was the whole point of the seeds. That they would grow anywhere?”

“I know that,” Finn said, irritation in his voice. She hadn’t heard that tone from him before, and she had to look around the corner where she and Wells were rigging up some tents to check that it was really Finn talking.

“Okay, then what’s the problem?” Monty asked, sounding tired. 

“The _problem_ is that we need to make sure that these people and the people that come down from the Ark will actually have food to eat and I want to know if there will be any issues with your formula?” 

_His_ formula? As in Monty’s?

“There’s no problem, they’ll work fine, so long as you make sure they stay watered and you plant them at the correct depth.”

“Okay. I’ll get Dax and Mbege to start digging.”

“You do that,” Monty said under his breath after Finn had already started walking away. “Fucking idiot.”

“Did you hear that?” Clarke whispered to Wells.

“Yeah… I wonder what he meant.”

“Well, we’re gonna go find out,” Clarke said, stepping around the corner and up to Monty. “Hey,” she said casually. “Everything okay?”

“Yep, no problems here,” Monty lied.

“Monty…” Wells trailed off. “We heard you and Finn,” he revealed.

Monty sighed and turned to face them. “So?”

“So? So we want to know what he meant by a formula. What formula?” Clarke asked bluntly.

“Why would I talk to you about this Clarke? I mean, we’re good friends, but you’re his girlfriend.”

“We’re not - ” she winced slightly. “We’re just - involved. It’s fine,” she tried to tell herself possibly even more than Monty. “We’re friends, Monty, right?” Monty looked skeptical but nodded. “Then, just tell me. I’ve never heard him take that tone before. If he’s hiding something, I want to know what it is.”

Monty looked like he was chewing something around in his mouth, like he wasn’t sure if he wanted the words to come out or not. “Look, no one else really knows about this, okay? Jasper knows, and Miller because I told him during training, but that’s it.”

Clarke nodded her understanding, though she really didn’t understand anything yet. But she urged him on nonetheless.

“You know those miracle beans that Finn came up with? The ones that we’re basically basing our entire survival on?”

“Yeah…” she affirmed, already dreading where this conversation was headed and what it would mean for them from then on out.

“Well, I actually developed the formula for them to work.”

“Wait…” _Shit._ “So the entire reason why they work the way they do, is because of _you_ and _not_ Finn?”

“Correct.”

“Then why let him take all the credit?”

“I didn’t, really. He just _did_. And when I questioned him about it, he sort of… implied that his family would… mess with mine.”

“What the fuck?” Clarke could almost not believe what he was saying. Except… the Collins were one of the most well-regarded, most revered families on the Ark. Even if they weren’t in leadership roles, they were one of the more well-off families that got away with just about everything. The Greens on the other hand… they were important too, part of the Farm Station, but they struggled a lot and if they got on the Collins' bad side… “What the fuck?” she repeated.

“Yeah. And it’s fine, I don’t really need credit,” he tried shrugging off.

“But Monty…” Wells tried

“No, it’s fine, really,” Monty repeated. “I don’t want to cause any issues. Just drop it. And don’t tell anyone what you know, please,” he insisted, walking away and clearly done with the conversation.

“What the hell are we going to do about this? And what the everloving fuck did I get myself into with this guy?” Clarke asked mostly herself, turning to Wells, who had a dumbfounded look on his face that matched what Clarke was feeling.

A couple hours later, Wells walked up to Finn and without any preamble or explanation, he punched Finn right in the nose.

\------------------------

Clarke was curled up on the bed, staring off into a small corner of her cabin, trying to commit to memory all of the millions of things that Wells had said or did over the course of his life.  
Since apparently there would never be any new ones.

She’d never seen Wells be violent before, in fact, she used to poke fun at what an unabashed pacifist he was. But he was also fiercely loyal and protective of his friends and family. And when he’d found out what a poser asshole Finn was, he couldn’t _not_ retaliate. 

Which is why what Monty said about Wells’s last moments were completely believable. Of course he would be saving both Monty _and_ helping her with the same action. Monty would have died or at the very least been far more severely injured had Wells not stepped in. And he probably thought she was in some kind of torture camp and he needed someone to get to her. 

If it weren’t for her, if it weren’t for his need to make sure she was okay, he might still be alive. He and Monty wouldn’t have tried to escape (she still had to ask about Miller and Jasper, Monty hadn’t mentioned them and she’d been distracted by the news of her brother dying to find out) and while they would have been locked up, they’d be alive. She’d have found a way to get to them eventually and they would be all together again.

This was her fault. She should’ve seen this from Finn coming. She should’ve seen this coming. She should have done more.

It also didn’t help matters that an entire roomful of people that she was trying to project strength and stability to had just seen her completely fall apart. She didn’t even realize she had broken and was falling until she felt a pair of warm arms surround her, or whose arms they were. All that she felt was warmth and comfort and compassion and she leaned into it without thinking on instinct, her heart seeking those things out without communicating with her head.

Accepting help from Bellamy of all people was something she’d been trying to fight, not wanting to give an inch and making sure he understood that she was her own person, not someone he had to protect or look after. 

But Clarke was tired. She was _so tired_ of fighting all the time. Fighting the ground, the people who lived there, the crazy mutated animals, the weather and an entire list of things that had been trying to kill and hurt her and her friends since they’d landed.

_So tired._

So she stopped fighting his hold on her and allowed herself a weak moment to give in to the solace she craved, even if it _was_ from him. Maybe _because_ it was him, because if there was one thing she’d learned about him, it was that he protected those he cared about, and for a moment, she allowed herself to wish she was one of them and the thought didn't startle her as much as she thought it would.

Clarke was sure things would be awkward the next time they were in the same room and she’d probably have to go back to fighting everything and everyone at some point, but for now, she had no fight left in her. 

Every time she closed her eyes, trying to escape the reality of everything that had happened and that she’d found out, an image of Wells dying was right there on the inside of her eyelids, her mind’s eye, refusing to give her peace. All she wanted was rest, but maybe she didn’t deserve it..

So she laid there, eyes open, breathing shallow and stomach churning. She didn’t even remember getting back to her cabin. It was making her physically ill to think of him dying like that, and worse, whether he’d even gotten a proper burial or was still laying in the middle of the forest, empty and alone.

She registered Bellamy entering the cabin even without seeing it, knowing somehow that he would come after checking to make sure his village was still safe from danger. He didn’t seem to realize that the danger was _her_. She was the danger and anyone who got too close ended up dead or hurt. 

They tried to keep their voices down, but Clarke has always had exceptional hearing, taking every conversation in and processing it through her mind. 

“She doing okay?”

“She lost her best friend, Bell, _no_ she’s not okay,” she heard Octavia say tiredly.

Silence.

“That’s not really what I - she say anything?”

“No… she’s just been laying there like she’s asleep, but I’m not even sure she’s so much as blinked since we got her to lay down. She’s just staring off,” Murphy told him.

More silence and she would’ve thought they had all decided to leave, that she wasn’t worth anymore energy (and she agreed with that assessment), except for the fact that in the next couple seconds there was suddenly a messy head of curls and a tanned face full of freckles obstructing her view of the corner she’d been staring into.

She knew he was there, but she didn’t bother flinching or backing away or otherwise acknowledging his presence.

“Clarke?” he asked carefully.

She wanted to say something, she wasn’t sure what though, but the words were on the edge of her tongue and she couldn’t make her lips move to actually let them out. 

_So tired._

The head turned, but was still in her field of vision. 

“You guys can go. I’ll stay.”

“I don’t want to leave her, I’ll stay too,” Octavia said from somewhere on the other side of the cabin.

She didn’t need anyone to stay, she wanted to say. It’s not like anyone could do anything anyway. But again, the words stayed in her head only.

“Okay. Murphy, go check on Harper and Monty before you head home, okay?”

“Of course,” Murphy told him and then he was gone out the door.

“Bellamy, I can stay, you don’t have to. You guys barely even - I can stay,” she heard Octavia repeat.

She could see him chewing it over and over in his mind, hesitating, before conceding. “You’re right. She wouldn’t want me here. It’s just...” he trailed off, leaving whatever thought he had unfinished. She saw his hand come up and drop back down before doing anything with it.

“Let Lincoln know where I am okay?” Octavia asked him.

“Yeah…” he stood and left her sight, walking towards the door, closing it softly behind him.

“Hey, Clarke? Want to try some water?” 

Clarke continued to say nothing, even though her throat had long since gone dry from her sobbing.

Octavia just sighed and set the glass down on the nightstand and removed the swords from her back and set them down on the chest at the foot of the bed. She’d always wondered whether Octavia even noticed them anymore, but they looked heavy and awkward to carry everywhere. 

She climbed on the bed next to Clarke, not even bothering to ask whether it was okay that she shared her space. Part of Clarke wanted to be annoyed, but the larger part wanted the company and was relieved that she didn’t even have to ask for it. 

Like she did during lunch the first few days, Octavia just laid there without talking or asking questions, simply keeping her company and allowing that to be enough. And it was. There were no expectations or talking about feelings or what she needed. Just gave Clarke her presence.

Eventually, her eyes drooped without her permission, Wells there at every drop of her lids, but she couldn’t stop it and at some point she decided to just give in the fitful night she was sure to have.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew, that was a heavy one.
> 
> You can for sure yell at me if you want.
> 
> I'm so so sorry. I love Wells, I really do. 
> 
> As a side note, for the record, he's who I intended to take the Minor Character Death in my tags. Please let me know if I did that wrong. He's been in flashbacks and Clarke has talked about his importance, but I never saw him as a Major Character, but this is only my second fic, so let me know if I need to change it!
> 
> This is going to be a fic that for sure goes on a roller coaster of happiness and tragedy and turmoil and joy and peace and angst and everything in between, so just as a forewarning for future chapters. I'll make sure to add warnings.
> 
> As awful as that was, I hope you still enjoyed reading it!
> 
> I hope to have the next one up Thursday. I'll probably update from now on 2-3 times a week, since I'm so far ahead in writing this one.


	7. Chapter 7

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> I'm glad no one seems to outright hate me after that last one, but still, hopefully this one provides some comfort. I'm enjoying this journey so much, and it's been great to have you all along with me.
> 
> Enjoy ❤

After a patchy night of sleep, Bellamy finally gave up trying to get any kind of decent rest about an hour before dawn. The events of the day before were still running through his mind, and he felt like there were a million things he needed to get done. 

But still, the only thing he _wanted_ to do was check on Clarke and Monty. He had to actively keep himself from heading straight to her cabin when he woke up, reasoning that if she had ever actually fallen asleep, it probably wasn’t going to be a productive night of rest and she should get to have however much of it her body needed. 

Monty, as well. He was pretty beat up, but nowhere near as bad as it had originally looked like when they brought him in the day before. Some rest would be good for him, but at some point Harper was going to have to get a break. He had no idea what to do about this guy. Clarke was clearly going to want him to stay and if the looks Harper was giving him last night were any indication, she was going to want him to stay as well. 

But, he _really_ couldn’t afford to start a war with the sky people, or Ontari for that matter. And if they found out he had Monty and wanted him back, Bellamy wasn’t sure how to stop them from taking him. Luna wouldn’t support any kind of war either. Not over one man.

He _really_ wished he could get some actual sleep; the back and forth going on in his head was flat out exhausting. 

After running through his normal morning routine of checking in with guards, the kitchens, and other various tasks he was responsible for every morning, he finally made his way to the dining hall for breakfast before checking on the progress and helping with the winter stocks and construction of the new cabins.

By the time dinner time rolled around and he’d still heard nothing from any of them, he gave up trying to stay away and decided to finally head to the clinic. When he walked in, Harper and Clarke were predictably by Monty’s side, who was sleeping still, or again. 

Murphy was floating about the clinic as well, tending to a fire that had a pot on top, presumably to boil more water, as he’d noticed they went through quite a few jars of stored water in order to clean up Monty the day before. 

“Hey, how’s it going on in here?” he asked tentatively.

Harper stood and walked over to him. “Hey,” she said, giving him a hug. “He’s okay, a fighter. He was in quite a bit of pain last night, but I gave him more jobi nut tea and he settled okay.”

Bellamy hummed in understanding. “Okay. Did you get any rest, Harp? You look exhausted,” he asked gently, referring to the dark circles that had started forming under her eyes.

“She is,” Clarke said from her chair and he hadn’t realized they’d been talking loud enough for her to hear. “And I’ve been telling her that I’ve got this and to go get some rest, but…” she trailed off, shrugging. 

“I’m not the only one that needs rest, Clarke. If it weren’t for O letting it slip how you tossed with nightmares all night, I would think that you hadn’t even tried to sleep,” Harper shot back to her. 

Clarke finally turned her face to roll her eyes at Harper and Bellamy could tell even from across the room how tired she was. She had circles under her eyes as well, the whites red and bloodshot. Despite what agony she must be feeling, they seem detached from any emotion. Still, she never wavered and he wouldn’t expect anything different from her. 

“I’m fine. I want to be here when he wakes up again. I missed it this morning since Octavia didn’t wake me when the sun came up - ”

“She was trying to let you rest - ”

“ - and I don’t want to miss it next time. Harper, you should go get some food and sleep in a real bed. I appreciate what you did last night, but I’m really, completely - ”

“Fine?” Murphy interjected from the fireplace, eyebrow quirked.

“Yes,” Clarke insisted. 

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Bellamy finally said.

“Who said you get to decide? He’s _my_ friend.”

“Yes, but he’s in _this_ village. Technically that makes me responsible for him for now, so I’m going to be the one calling the shots on this, Princess,” he said, letting the name slip again and _damnit_ he was going to need to keep that in check if he didn’t want to start arguments with her anymore. But he’d meant it in a way that would get her to just accept some help, and she didn’t seem to really mind that time. She scoffed, but thankfully said nothing.

“ _I_ will be the one to stay with Monty right now,” he continued and Clarke opened her mouth to undoubtedly release any number of obscenities at him. “Neither you nor Harper have eaten or slept and the kitchen is open for the next hour. Murphy and I will stay with him while you two go eat something.”

“Absolutely not. He barely knows who you are, if he wakes up -”

“ _If_ he wakes up while you’re gone, I’ll send Murphy down to get you. This isn’t up for debate. Harper, you will go right back home after eating and get a full night’s sleep.” Harper also opened her mouth to refute his decision, but he held up a hand to stop her. “You can come back in the morning. If something happens to one of our residents and neither of you are rested enough to help, you know both of you will regret it.”

He saw Clarke clench her jaw and he could see her hatred of his good point in the way she narrowed her eyes. If there was anything he’d learned about her, it was her love for helping people. Harper too.

“I don’t like this…” she trailed off tentatively, before she added so quietly he almost missed it, “I can’t keep losing people.” Her voice broke, and she bit down on her lip, hard.

He softened his voice, and sighed, stepping nearer to her and resisted the urge to put a hand on her shoulder to comfort her. “I know. But part of Monty’s mission in coming here was to make sure you were okay. So don’t deny him a positive answer on that,” he told her. And when she opened her mouth this time, he got there first. “And if you say you’re fine one more time, I’m not going to let you back in this clinic until morning,” he threatened even though they both knew he wouldn’t be able to stop her. 

Clarke clamped her mouth shut and leaned over to give Monty a kiss on the forehead and Harper squeezed his hand before they started walking towards the door. Before she left though, after Bellamy had already taken his seat next to Monty, she stopped and turned.

“You better take care of him. I’m trusting you,” she informed him, with more emotion than she’d shown since he got there. It still didn’t fit with her expression though, almost as if the emotion with which she talked to him was completely separate to whatever was going on inside her head. It was the first time she told him she trusted him.

“Understood,” he told her, hoping she understood that he meant she could trust him with more than just Monty. He knew what she was going through and if it were O instead of Wells that this had happened to, he’d be a wreck. He wasn’t even sure how she was still standing.

\------------------------

Two weeks went by and for the most part, it passed just like any other end of season. Fall was approaching and Monty was only in the clinic a few days before being cleared. He and Clarke debated a little over what the implications would be of him staying looked like, and while it wasn’t necessarily the most pleasant of conversations, he felt like they were on the same side finally.

Thankfully, nothing so far had come of him staying. His scouts gradually decreased the number of patrols they were doing until it was back to normal. Either Finn thought Monty was dead or he just flat didn’t care where he went. If Monty was vocal about opposing Finn’s leadership, he’d be happy to get rid of him. But if Monty was necessary in farming the land like Clarke had told him… it was a risk, but a low one. And one he didn’t mind taking; he’d come to care about Monty quickly, like the rest of them had.

The Azgeda delegates, probably Echo and Roan again, maybe a couple others, would be along in a week or two to visit and make sure he was abiding by the rules of the agreement. He never had any patience for Ice Nation and he wouldn’t lie, he was incredibly annoyed at the idea that they’d be coming every month for fuck knows how long. 

He’d kept a careful eye on Clarke and Monty to see how they were acclimating. Clarke had just barely started to open up to them before Monty arrived with the news of Wells, and since then, she retreated back into herself, despite all their best efforts to try to draw her back out. 

It wasn’t as bad as when she’d first arrived though, and he was grateful for that. But in some ways, it was almost worse. She wasn’t antagonistic or resistant to them, just… withdrawn, like all her emotions had been muted. She still came to meal times and interacted and answered questions, but she stopped smiling or laughing for the most part, and he was not all that surprised anymore to find that he missed that side of her.

Monty fit in nicely and the difference between the two were night and day. When Clarke closed herself off while she was in pain (and despite her best efforts to lead him to believe the contrary, there was no denying it), Monty seemed open and trusting. He jumped right in as soon as he could, fixing things around the village, engineering ways to better supply water and store their food and he was especially invaluable with his opinions on the winter preparations. He even offered to share his “formula” with them of his magic beans, but they didn’t have the technology capable of producing them so it was mostly a moot point. 

But still, Bellamy appreciated his efforts. 

It probably helped that he and Harper had _definitely_ started seeing each other and to no one’s surprise, they were sickenly sweet about it. They also weren’t announcing it though and were actively denying being anything official, though no one believed them. 

Bellamy actually found himself a little jealous of their easy connection, the devotion that they seemed to find in each other without any complication. He could barely even remember what it was like to care for someone like that.

One evening after dinner, they had all returned to their cabins, Monty had been rooming with Murphy for the time being and he was constantly listening to Murphy moan and complain about not having a place to himself anymore and threatened to anyone that would listen that he was going to have to pitch himself in the ocean if he had to listen to anymore of Monty’s cheerful exposition or mooning over Harper.

Thankfully they were only empty threats though and he and Monty had actually formed an unlikely friendship.

He had considered seeing if Harper would want to room with Clarke, just because it might be helpful for Clarke to have someone constant, but he had a feeling that her complaints would end up being a lot like Murphy’s, the two of them being scarily similar in some ways. 

Plus, it wasn’t really his business. It wasn’t like they were _really_ friends anyway, just hesitant allies, more like he tried to tell himself. He found himself trusting her more and more and not being on edge as much and he’d like to think she felt the same about him, but she never really gave an inch into what she was thinking so he really didn’t know.

He walked the path back to his cabin, the sun starting it’s descent earlier than usual, as summer started winding down. The weather would start turning soon as well, getting chillier and chillier until the village started getting quieter and not as lively. It was perhaps his least favorite time of year, except when it snowed. Snow on a beach was a magnificent sight.

He’d have to talk with Monty and Clarke about what to expect for the winter. Bellamy was sure winter down on Earth was different than space, for obvious reasons. He wasn’t even sure if they celebrated seasons or not with no weather. He wanted to make sure they had everything they needed.

He added it to his list for the next week, already preoccupied with preparations for the next day. It was a big day, one of the biggest for his village for the year and everyone, especially the children were excited for it. 

Even he was excited, despite the last month that has kind of turned the status quo upside down. He loved this celebration and was curious to see whether Monty and Clarke would want to participate. He thought it might be good for her, for them, but only they could decide if they wanted to be a part of the village traditions or not.

***

“So I want to ask you something,” Octavia declared, walking into the clinic and hopping up on one of the beds.

Clarke sighed and waited. 

It had been two weeks since she found out Wells had died and a part of her still felt numb, like she couldn’t fully move on. To their credit, they hadn’t let her just fade away, constantly trying to bring her comfort and understanding. Octavia and Murphy made regular visits to the clinic, sometimes just to sit and putz around, sometimes to try to get her to talk.

When she’d pointed out that they also had actual jobs to do, and that she was doing her best, they understood and gave her space, which she appreciated. Monty had moved in with Murphy for the time being and while he complained all the time about what a slob Murphy was, she knew he was happy at Sonchahou. 

He and Harper had more than hit it off, like she’d suspected they would after their first encounter, and he seemed far happier than she’d ever seen him back in the Ark or the dropship. She knew he was worried about Jasper, but she assured him that as long as Jasper kept his head down, Finn would have no reason to target him. 

Same with Miller. She’d found out that he was also locked up, and taken out only so he could hunt food down for their people. He’d gotten beat so bad after the first time he resisted, that he was just doing his best to hang in there. Finn couldn’t hunt for shit, so she knew Finn needed him.

They wanted to get both of them out, but had no idea where to start. She felt so small, and incapable of doing anything that would be of any help. It was just the two of them, they wouldn’t be able to do much of anything. Bellamy would never risk a war or his people on a rescue mission for people weren’t even a part of their village. Not with Ontari so solidly on Skaikru’s side.

“So there’s a bonfire later tonight,” Octavia told her when she hadn’t responded.

“Okay?” she asked, having already heard about it. Apparently it was some tradition, but to her, it was just a large fire. But they didn’t have fires like that on the Ark, and it was going to be on the beach, which she hadn’t been to yet, so she couldn’t deny she wasn’t at least _mildly_ interested.

Octavia rolled her eyes and continued, “We have one at this time every year. It signifies the end of the year, the switching of seasons. It is said that the hotter and larger the fire, the more mild our winter will be,” she began. “Murphy is in charge of getting it going, so you know it’s going to be _big_ ,” she emphasized.

“Your year begins at the end of summer?” Clarke asked confused.

“Yeah… when does Ark celebrate the new year?”

“January…” she started, but off Octavia’s look, she amended, “It’s in a few months.”

“Your new year is in the _middle_ of a season?” she asked and Clarke really had never thought of it that way.

“I guess so,” she conceded. “There weren’t really seasons on the Ark since we didn’t have, you know, weather. We kept track of time by a calendar instead,” Clarke explained. It hadn’t really occurred to her how different they viewed the passing of time. 

“Right,” Octavia responded, looking like she’d just realized the same thing Clarke did. Then something seemed to strike her. “Oh! So you’ve never seen snow!”

“Nope.”

“You’re going to love it,” Octavia told her with all sincerity, but Clarke really doubted it. Everything that snow seemed to be, at least on paper sounded more annoying than anything. The pictures they had on the Ark of snow were beautiful, but as far as survival went, it seemed that it would be counter-productive.

Though, she’d decided to live, rather than just survive, so maybe she should give it a chance.

“Isn’t it just basically frozen rain?” Clarke asked, genuinely curious.

Octavia shook her head. “It’s so much more. It’s white and pure and peaceful and beautiful,” she told her with awe. Clarke lips quirked up a little.

Yeah, that didn’t sound so bad.

“So anyway, this bonfire. It’s supposed to be a cleansing of the previous year, in order to start the new year fresh,” Octavia told her, swinging her legs like a child off the edge of the bed. The contradiction was jarring, as she still wore both swords behind her and clothes that looked like she was headed off to war.

“I don’t know, Octavia, I don’t think I’m really in the mood for it.”

Octavia hesitated for a moment. “Part of the cleansing is tossing a pinecone into the fire to represent those we’ve lost. There’s a basket that Bellamy keeps safe in his cabin that families of loved ones put pinecones in when they lose someone,” she explained pointedly.

“Octavia,” she said sternly. Wells wasn’t a part of their village, they didn’t even know him. They wouldn’t want him as part of this ritual. 

“Clarke,” she started. “When we found out Wells died… it was Bell’s and Murphy’s idea. It wasn’t really the right time to explain the whole process, but they wanted to honor him for you and Monty. So they picked out a pinecone and put it in the basket two weeks ago,” she told Clarke. Clarke’s eyes snapped to Octavia’s and saw the earnestness and even a small amount of nervousness there. She was serious. Bellamy and Murphy had already counted Wells as part of their ritual. She wanted to say she was surprised at the thoughtfulness, but they’d made it clear over the past few weeks how much they cared.

“Really?” she asked anyway.

“Well yeah. You’re - you’re a part of our village, Clarke. You and Monty. You both lost someone you were close to; this is what we do to honor those we’ve lost.”

Clarke didn’t really know what to make of that. She wasn’t a part of the village; if they knew what a bad omen she was, they wouldn’t want her anyway. Of course they should count Monty in though, for sure. She was sure he was supposed to be here all along.

“So will you come?”

Clarke was still distracted by what Octavia had said and the confusion it gave her and she felt her head start nodding without permission.

“Great! Harper already talked to Monty about it. Starts at dusk tonight, don’t be late!” Octavia hopped off the table and took off, and Clarke tried to busy herself doing whatever would keep her hands busy and mind off of what she just agreed to. Was she ready to say goodbye to Wells? Was she ready to participate in something that the village held so dear?

She was a little surprised that Bellamy had anything to do with it. Things had been better between them, definitely, but they were still a long way off from being friendly. They avoided each other mostly, and when they were in the same vicinity, they only interacted in the most casual of ways. Still, he seemed to treat her as part of the village, but was she? Would she be free to leave like everyone else? Or was she still technically a prisoner? 

When the sun had sunk down far past the horizon and Clarke couldn’t make any more excuses, she headed back to her cabin to see if maybe there was something there that she could use to stall. But when she walked in, there was something on her bed, - a dress. She walked over and it was a simple dress, thin straps and pale blue with buttons up the front. It was pretty… but it was a _dress_. She hadn’t worn a dress since the Ark.

Clarke sat down on the bed, the dress in hand and groaned, loudly. No way was she going to wear this. Whoever set this out was crazy. No way. 

She groaned again and flopped back just as a knock sounded at the door.

She darted back up. “Hello?”

“ _Heyo_ it’s me,” a voice said, opening the door. Murphy poked his head through the crack in the door and his eyes strained as he looked around the cabin for her. “You’re not dressed? Get going, _skaigada_ , the flames from the fire are already reaching the sky. I think I outdid myself this year, honestly.”

“Murphy, I’m not wearing this.”

“Why not? You’ll look hot,” he said jokingly and she made a face at him. Murphy had become a friend, but for sure nothing more than that. He just got her, in a way Harper didn’t, and it was refreshing, not always being hovered over, as much as Clarke knew she cared. Octavia was sort of the middle of the road between them. 

He continued, “Plus, Harper picked it out and I’m not going to be the one to tell her you didn’t want to wear it,” he pointed out. “But honestly, if you want to wear what you’re wearing, I don’t really care. I just want to get to drinking and stupid me, I thought I’d stop here and drag your ass with me.”

“How did you know I’d even be here? I could’ve been down on the beach already.”

Murphy let out a chuckle. “I’m not even going to dignify that with an answer.”

Clarke sighed. If there was one person in this entire village she didn’t want to let down, it was Harper after how kind and thoughtful she’d been. And it was just a stupid dress anyway.

When Murphy didn’t move, she waved her hands at him. “Well? I’m not going to change with you just standing there staring at me,” she said pointedly. When he just smirked at her, she gave up. “Fine, stay, see if I care.” She’d never been shy about her body before and damn if she was going to let Murphy make her shy now.

When her hand reached for the hem of her shirt, he finally held up his hands in surrender. “Okay, okay, nevermind, I’m turning.”

She just shook her head, changing quickly. Harper hadn’t thought of shoes, but since fashion really was the least of her worries at that point, she just relaced up her combat boots and called it good.

“Alright let’s get this over with,” she mumbled, finishing her braid. 

Murphy turned around and flung an arm around her shoulder. “See? Hot.”

“Shut up Murphy.”

He just chuckled. “Now that’s the spirit!” 

“You better not have been lying before, there better be drinking there.”

Murphy just winked at her and rushed her out of the cabin.

There definitely better be drinking.

\------------------------

Clarke felt the heat from the flames before she saw them, it’s warmth seemingly heating up the entire town. She was afraid that since she’d left her jacket back at her cabin, she’d be cold, but that couldn’t be farther from the truth. When she rounded the corner, she saw that Murphy had been right, the flames seemed to stretch all the way to the clouds.

The first thing she saw and heard, besides the fire, and despite the large crowd, however, was Bellamy’s voice and the waves as they lapped along the shore a little way away from where the fire was blazing. He was sitting right in front of the fire and he must have had some special skin that prevented his back from overheating because he didn’t even seem concerned in the slightest that he was close enough for the fire to reach out and touch him.

He was surrounded by children, all completely entranced by whatever it was he was telling them. His arms swung wildly around and his face made this scrunchy expression when he was over exaggerating something. He bellowed with laughter, a somehow incredibly deep, yet impossibly light noise that seemed to be contagious, as the children followed suit with their own laughter. 

Octavia and Lincoln were off to the side with drinks in their hands, sitting on a two person swing, her legs tucked up under her and leaning on her husband’s shoulder listening to her brother tell his story. Clarke had never seen her look so relaxed before, the warrior mask she usually wore having been left back at her cabin evidently. At least she was wearing a dress too. 

The story he was telling was straight out of one of her books on the Ark, and she wondered how it was that he came to know it as well. He continued to surprise her. He wasn’t at all what she imagined him to be a month ago when she’d seen him for the first time, all snark and wit and rude comments.

He glanced up mid-smile at her, but instead of the sight of her wiping the smile off his face like she expected, it only seemed to grow wider and she couldn’t help the small one that appeared on her own face in response.

His enthusiasm really was contagious. 

He held her gaze only a moment before he was back to his story, regaling them of the way Prometheus had stolen fire from the heavens.

She noticed how he conveniently left out the part of the story where Prometheus was chained to a rock to have an eagle eat his liver every day for the rest of his life. That probably wasn’t the most appropriate thing to be telling the children. Children liked stories about heroes and standing up for what was right. 

She did too.

“You’re staring,” Monty said, coming up next to her. She hadn’t even noticed that Murphy wasn’t next to her anymore, probably having run off to find a drink.

Clarke scoffed. “I am not, I’m just… looking around and taking it all in.”

“Mhmm.”

“Monty, stop! Seriously, it’s not like that. We barely tolerate each other,” she tried to point out, but she wasn’t even sure if that was a true statement anymore. 

“Barely tolerate each other? Is there something I don’t know about him? Because honestly he seems pretty great to me.”

“There’s a lot of things about him you don’t know - that I don’t know! That’s kind of the point,” she told him. “You’ve only been here a couple weeks and me a few before that. It’s…” she hesitated.

“It’s what?”

“Complicated. I don’t know what to do about all… this,” she said, waving her hand around. It felt like if she admitted that she actually had friends here, that there were people she trusted, that would be it. She’d be officially part of their village and she wasn’t sure she was ready to let go of her own people. It felt like giving up, even though she knew that wasn’t necessarily the case. They’d given her up first. 

And her parents were part of the Ark. What would they say when they got down from space and their daughter had joined a different village? Her mother would be disappointed, no doubt. Her father… she really didn’t know how he’d react. It was just all so damn confusing.

“So where’s Harper?” she asked, turning the tables on him to deflect from where she knew Monty was headed.

He gave her a look, but allowed her deflection, seemingly understanding that there were things she wasn’t ready to face yet. “Layla ran up to her the second we got here begging Harper to braid her hair. She wanted to take me to the ocean later, but told me to go find you first while she helped Layla.”

“Everyone needs to stop being so concerned with me. I’m fine,”Clarke pouted a little at everyone’s lack of subtly in checking up on her. Despite the fact that they weren’t entirely wrong.

“You know, just because you say that a thousand times doesn’t make it true. That’s not how it works.”

“Yeah, whatever,” she joked with him, smiling a little so that he didn’t think she was being too dismissive. 

“Clarke! I’m so glad you’re here!” one of the little children exclaimed running up to her. It was Madi; the little 5 year old girl she’d mistakenly taken for Bellamy’s that first week. Madi had visited the clinic a few weeks ago with a twisted ankle from climbing a tree and falling out of it. Since then, she visited every once in a while watching Clarke and Harper as they worked and helped other residents.

“Hey Madi,” Clarke said, crouching down to her level. You staying out of trouble?” she asked, teasing.

Madi giggled. “Of course not. My mama says that I was born causing a ruckus.”

That made Clarke smile wider than she had in awhile. “Are you enjoying Bellamy’s story?”

“Oh yes, he’s the best! He uses different voices and everything. It’s so fun! Are you going to listen to the rest?”

“I’ll be right here,” she assured the girl, before tweaking her nose and Madi giggled again and ran back to join the other children.

She stood and looked back at Monty, who had a smile of his own on his face. She returned to watching Bellamy continue his story. 

“So did they tell you about the pinecone thing?” Monty asked after a couple minutes. 

Bellamy had finished telling his story and was now fending off attacks from the children who had been listening. They climbed all over him like a jungle gym and he played into it willingly, laughing with them all the while. It was the lightest she’d ever seen him and she couldn’t say she hated the way the flames lit up his smile.

It was part of what was so infuriating about him and part of why she’d kept her distance. Bellamy was easily one of the most attractive people, male or female, she’d ever seen in her life, and every time her brain locked on the way his curls fell onto his forehead, or his brown eyes got lighter when he was happy, or the smile that lit up his entire face with joy or the determined set of his ridiculously broad shoulders when he was in protective leader mode, she found herself frustrated. Because everything she’d said to Monty was mostly true. She knew next to nothing about him. Except, those were just facts, weren’t they? She didn’t need to know every fact about someone to really know them. 

She was still having some trouble separating the deal Ontari and Finn made with his part in it. It was so jumbled together. She knew he didn’t agree with it, tried to keep it from happening though, and Clarke had to admit, that _mattered_.

“Yeah, Octavia told me about it.”

Monty faced the fire. “I think it’s a good idea,” he said determinedly.

“Why? Wells wasn’t even a part of this village or clan,” she pointed out, not disagreeing with him, but wanting his perspective.

“True. But… he would’ve really loved it here, if he’d made it. We have no idea what they did with his body and he deserves to be sent off into some kind of peace. And it’s peaceful here. ”

She nodded in agreement and tears threatened to make a reappearance at the corners of her eyes, but she squeezed them shut until she was sure they wouldn’t fall. She wasn’t going to break, not again.

“Okay. If you want to, then I’m with you.”

As if on cue, Octavia and Harper approached them with a basket in Harper’s hands. 

“You two about ready?” Octavia asked gently.

Clarke and Monty exchanged a glance and it didn’t escape her notice that Harper’s hand had found Monty’s the second they came up to them. She gave him a small smile before answering Octavia.

“Yeah, I… I think we are. What do we do?”

Octavia gave her a gentle smile and handed her one of them out of the basket. “This is the one the boys picked out for him,” she told Clarke. “Bellamy will say a brief blessing in Trig, then the families of the loved ones will take turns saying goodbye. Most say some version of _‘yu gonplei ste odon’_ , your fight is over, but really you can say whatever you want. This is your chance to give Wells peace, and you are the only ones that knew him, so it’s up to you. Then Bellamy will take a torch from the fire and take it to the ocean to extinguish it in the waves to return the ones we’ve lost to the water.”

The reality of what they were going to do set in like a pit in her stomach and she couldn’t say anything except, “Okay,” her voice breaking.

She nodded at them and left to distribute the rest of the pinecones to the remaining families of those they had lost that year, including Atom, whose parents were a little ways away from them. 

Her, Monty, and Harper stepped up to the fire and waited. Everyone seemed to understand what was going on because they all did as well. Off to her left, she saw Bellamy step up to the fire as well, his expression having changed from carefree to more ceremonious. She caught him glance over to her and lips twitched a little, like they were resisting a smile. He nodded at her and she to him, then she let herself get lost in the flames, pinecone at her side as he began.

" _Oso nou fir wamplei in; em bilaik stoda kom nes soujon noumou._ "

“We do not fear death; for it is only the beginning of the next journey,” Harper translated softly from Monty’s other side.

“ _Oso giv osir op gon nemiyon kom lanik-de…_ ” He had his eyes closed, speaking softly and gently.

“We give ourselves to the miracle of the sea…” 

“ _Gon koma... Gon jova... Gon ai niron... Gon ai kru._ ”

“For honor… for courage… for my kin… for my clan.”

“ _Kom woda 'so gyon op, gon woda 'so kom daun._ ” 

“From water we are born, to water we return,” Harper finished.

It was beautiful and fitting of a clan that lived on the edge of the ocean. It was also peaceful, and hopeful, everything that Wells was. She couldn’t help but let silent tears slip down her cheeks, and she registered Murphy come to stand next to her. 

She watched as one by one, each family said some sort of goodbye, some in Trig, some in English, until it was their turn. Her and Monty turned to each other and without having even discussed it first, whispered the Traveler’s Blessing to one another. 

“In peace, may you leave this shore. In love, may you find the next. Safe passage on your travels, until our final journey to the ground. May we meet again.”

“I love you, Wells, I’m so so sorry,” she added quietly, tears still falling. And together, her and Monty tossed it in the fire and watched as it turned the flames green and disintegrated. She messily wiped her cheeks with the back of her hand, swallowed hard and squared her shoulders again to the fire. She caught Harper wrapping an arm around Monty in her peripheral and felt as Murphy moved just close enough that their shoulders bumped when one of them would shift. Not hovering, just supportive.

She glanced at Bellamy, who was watching them intently, and the reflection of the flames danced off his skin as he flicked his gaze away and moved closer to the fire, choosing a log for the torch that Octavia had talked about. No one followed as he approached the ocean, stood for a few moments with his head bowed, and threw the torch as far as he could into the ocean. She watched as the light extinguished into the ocean and darkness overtook the waves once again.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This and Chapter 8 had to be split for length, so our bonfire will continue in the next update. It has possibly one of my favorite scenes of this story thus far, so I'm super excited to share it with you! Update should come Saturday or Sunday.
> 
> Hope you all enjoyed reading!


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! I wanted to get this up a little earlier, but I ran out of time and there were a few parts of this chapter I needed to rewrite. 
> 
> But I'm excited for this second half of the bonfire so I hope you all enjoy!
> 
> Also, possible **trigger warning** after the jump. It's a quick mention in dialogue, but I wanted to make sure to be overly cautious. If you feel like you need to check, go ahead, but I've got spoilery notes down there too just as an FYI

As much as he hated loss and having to say goodbye to someone they loved, Bellamy was grateful for the Floukru tradition. It gave his people the chance to give their loved ones peace. The pain didn’t necessarily go away, but it helped the ones left behind start to heal. 

He wasn’t sure whether Clarke and Monty would want to partake in the tradition, but he knew the odds of them ever getting another chance to say goodbye were slim and he saw how deeply it affected Clarke particularly. So he and Murphy had gone out into the woods after Clarke had gotten back to Monty the day after she’d found out and picked out a pinecone to set in the basket for this celebration of life. He’d meant to tell her about it, but it never seemed like the right time and she had been so closed off, he wasn’t sure when would be the best time to. 

When he’d asked Octavia to tell Clarke about it that morning, she gave him a disapproving look, which he completely deserved, like she knew he was being a coward and thought he should be the one to tell her, but she relented and agreed to bring it up to her. 

Still, he half expected Clarke to skip out on the bonfire entirely. It was a Floukru tradition and she’d made it pretty clear she didn’t consider herself a part of their people. But to him, he had already started counting her as one of them. He wasn’t sure when the switch in his mind had happened, only that it had.

Every year at the bonfire, all the children always run up to him immediately requesting a story by the fire. It was one of his favorite parts of the night and in the middle of his narration he felt a tingle in his chest and when he looked up and saw her standing there watching him, he couldn’t help but smile. 

She was beautiful; he had long since stopped denying _that_ fact to himself. He’d have to be blind not to notice. Her wavy blonde hair was tamed in a braid that evening, and she had a dress on that he didn’t even know she had. She looked so much like one of them, he almost wouldn’t recognize her if it weren’t for her piercing blue eyes bright even from the distance he was from her. He went back to his story though, and when he glanced up next she was in a conversation with Monty, a sad smile on her face, but looking more relaxed than she had when she arrived. 

It was after the farewell ceremony now, and most of them were some version of pleasantly intoxicated, including himself. A few days ago, Monty had heard they were having difficulties with their still that was on its last legs and offered to fix it up, telling Bellamy a story of him and his best friend, who would frequently brew alcohol on their Ark. 

He wasn’t drunk enough to be out of control of his facilities, he rarely ever was since he was still responsible for the well being of his people, but he had enough in his system that when he saw Clarke sitting on the beach a little ways away, he joined her without thinking too much about it. 

“This seat taken?” he asked tentatively, still half expecting her to tell him to shove off.

“Depends,” she said, but she grinned a little up at him so he took that as close to an invitation to take a seat as he was going to get. It was rare lately that she smiled and it was refreshing to see it now. 

“Did you go get a drink? You look like you could use one.”

She chuckled a little and tucked a stray curl that had come out of her braid behind her ear. “I could use more than one.”

“Then have more than one. You deserve it, Princess.” He hesitated only briefly. “Here, have mine,” he said, handing his cup that he’d just refilled over to her; he’d had enough anyway. She narrowed her eyes at it fractionally before taking it, her fingers brushing his briefly in the hand off. He pushed down the flip his stomach did at the contact.

She took a sip, grimacing a little. “Ugh, this tastes like Monty’s moonshine.”

He let out a loud bark of laughter. “It is, he wanted to help with the bonfire, so I said he could mix up whatever he wanted for it.”

“Well that was your first mistake, this stuff is lethal,” she warned him, but she took another sip anyway. After a moment, she asked, “So I’m really not going to get you to stop calling me that, hmm?”

“I tried, I swear I did, but it stuck,” he let himself joke, since she’d stopped reacting negatively to it a while ago. “Did I finally wear you down?” he smirked.

She only shook her head and chuckled a little, playing with the hem of her dress where her legs were crossed under it. 

“The dress is pretty,” he heard himself say and _shit_ maybe he’d had more to drink than he thought.

“It’s just a dress,” she mumbled, taking a long swig of her drink. 

“It looks like one of our’s.”

“Harper got it for me,” she confirmed, a little uncomfortable.

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to imply…” that she was one of them, he was going to say, but the words got lost, because he absolutely _did_ mean to imply that, but he knew she wasn’t exactly ready to accept it.

“It’s okay,” she assured him quicker than he’d expected. “I guess I still feel like I have one foot in each place and I’m not really sure what to do about it. Or if there _is_ anything to do about it. I mean, I’m not even allowed to leave the village, so the decision has kind of already been made for me.”

He hated that. Hated the way she said it. Like she still counted herself as a prisoner, instead of part of them. He got it though. He knew it wasn’t all awful for her here, that she had friends now, but he also knew she was still confused about where she thought she _should_ be. 

He looked at her as part of his people, but he also understood why she might not feel the same way. She still blamed herself for Wells, blamed herself for not being there with the rest of Skaikru, blamed herself for his decision to come look for her. Probably even blamed Bellamy for keeping her here in the first place. 

“If you need to leave, if you need to go back,” he started, voice straining a little. “I’m - I’m not going to stop you. You and Monty are welcome to stay, of course, we’d all _like_ you to stay, but I don’t want you feeling like that, torn in two, I don’t want you feeling like that at all,” he shook his head a little and forced himself to keep his eyes on the ocean, breathing in time with the waves that rolled on the shore.

“Really?” she asked, curious, and he could feel her eyes on him but he refused to look at her, a little afraid of what she would see if she looked in his eyes. He was sincere in his suggestion, he’d been thinking about it a lot lately, whether to take the risk and let her go, and while he wanted her to stay, he had let her leave if she wanted. “What about Ontari?”

He scoffed and glanced quickly at her before swinging his gaze back to the ocean. “I’ll deal with Ontari, if it comes to that. I can’t keep you here, feeling trapped anymore, it’s - ” _hurting me to see it_ “ - not right.” 

She leaned back on her elbows and he mirrored her, sighing. “Take the night. Enjoy the bonfire and the drinks and if you and Monty decide to leave in the morning, you can take one of our horses.”

“Thank you,” she said quietly, almost so quietly that it was close to being lost in the waves and the crackling fire behind them.

They were quiet a few moments longer before she spoke up again. “Octavia told me it snows here. I’ve never seen snow. Of course, I’ve never seen the ocean before either, so…” she laughed a little. 

“This beach is one of my favorite places in the world. It’s so peaceful. And just wait until you see the combination of those two things. The beach with snow on it… it’s my favorite part of winter.” As soon as he said it, he realized that she may not even be here for it, and a pang went through his chest that he pushed down.

“I used to stare at old pictures of the ocean and the snow and try to imagine what it would feel like. Would the snow be cold, the water warm?” she mused, staring down the beach a little at Harper and Monty, who were laughing as Harper tried to coax Monty to step in the waves. “I used to try to draw them, the snow on mountains, and the sun beating down on the ocean. I had to draw it from my imagination obviously and it never came out quite right.”

“You draw? I didn’t know that,” he said absently.

“I do, I love it. If there was any practical use for it on the Ark, I would’ve rather done that than medical to be honest. But everyone on the Ark is so focused on the skills that help us survive, they forget about the skills that make us actually feel alive. My dad used to tell me that whenever he snuck me charcoal or paints, or even crayons. I’d draw with anything I could get my hands on.”

“You miss him,” he said as a fact, not a question. It was clear enough from her tone.

She nodded, affirming his assessment. 

“I never knew my dad. Died before I was born, in battle,” he told her. If she could share something personal with him, he could reciprocate. 

She cocked her head a little and retucked the strand that kept escaping from behind her ear. “Wait, but…” she started, obviously trying to figure out how Octavia was even there.

“O and I have different dads,” he began to explain, taking a deep breath. It had been a while since he’d met anyone that didn’t already know. “After my father died, it was just me and my mom. One day, a man came into our house while I was out playing, and he… forced himself on my mother,” he finished, trying to remain as detached as possible to the story. “And she found out Octavia was on her way a couple months later.”

“That’s… I’m sorry she went through that. That both of you went through that.”

He snuck a glance at her, expecting to see pity in her eyes and instead he saw compassion.

“You know that wasn’t your fault, right?” she asked, surprising him. She never seemed to stop doing that.

“I didn’t say it was.”

She hummed. “I recognize the tone. The guilt, the shame hidden in the words, the way you said it. I can relate.”

“Wells wasn’t your fault either,” he told her, indicating that he knew what she was talking about. If she was going to be honest, he was going to do the same to her. Or _for_ her, maybe. Because there was something fundamentally impactful about trusting that kind of guilty weight to someone and have them understand it.

“I didn’t say it was,” she echoed his words, and knocked her shoulder into his slightly.

“I’m not sure if it’ll mean anything coming from me, but if you need forgiveness, I’ll give that to you. You’re forgiven, okay?” he told her, a lump forming in his throat for reasons he wasn’t ready to allow himself to think about. Wells was not her fault, she was not to blame for any of it. But he liked that they understood each other. He hoped that counted for _something_.

She looked at him like she maybe wanted to say something or was trying to figure something out, but she remained silent. Her eyes were a little lighter though, so maybe it did mean something after all.

He felt his lips quirk up to the side in a crooked smile and turned back to stare at Harper and Monty, who had finally gotten Monty to wade in.

“You want to go join them?” he asked nodding in their direction.

“Nah, they’re so happy together, the last thing they need is me as a third wheel,” she said a little wistfully.

He stood before he really thought about what he was doing and brushed the sand off his pants and started rolling up the cuffs.

“What’re you doing?” she asked.

“What does it look like?” he said, lifting an eyebrow. “If you’re not going to join _them_ , maybe you’ll join _me_ ,” he offered. “You might want to take your boots off. You can’t feel the sand and water between your toes with them on,” he pointed out, arms crossed in mock impatience.

She looked up at him, bit her lip a little in nervousness. “No - no it’s okay. It’s huge, and dark and - ” 

“You said you wondered what the ocean felt like. Well, if you leave tomorrow,” he swallowed hard. “If you leave tomorrow, you might not get another chance. Let’s go, Princess, we don’t have all night.”

“We don’t?” she challenged. 

“It’s an expression,” he rolled his eyes. “Now _hoz op_!” he beckoned, stretching a hand out for her to take. “Don’t you trust me?”

She just sat there staring at it for a moment before reaching out and placing her hand in his so he could pull her up. 

“Fine. _Hoz op_.” She hesitated. “Wait, that means let’s go, right?” she clarified. 

He laughed and smiled at her, hand still firmly in his. “Yeah. You’re catching on.”

She smiled at him then, genuine and without hesitation as if they truly were just two friends hanging out on the beach instead of two people with miles between them.

She let go of his hand to bend down to untie her laces, carrying her boots to the water and setting them just out of reach of the waves, always on guard, ready to shoot into action if needed. He wondered if she’d ever stop being on edge, stop being ready for a fight at a moment’s notice.

He waded into the waves, closing his eyes for a brief few moments just enjoying the waves as they lapped up around his legs. He waded in deeper and deeper until he was at his knees. He turned to see her still standing just out of the way of the waves and raised an eyebrow to her in question.

“So is it cold? It looks cold.”

“You are one of the strongest, most headstrong, brave women I’ve ever had the displeasure of arguing with, and you’re afraid of a little cold water?” he challenged.

“You’re an ass.”

“There she is,” he teased.

Clarke rolled her eyes and turned her focus to the water, tucking that damn strand behind her ear again. He couldn’t help the smile that appeared on his face when she finally waded in.

“Fuck! I thought it was summer, how is it this fucking cold?” she swore under her breath.

He just chuckled and waited for her to get within arm’s reach, snatching her hand and pulling her the rest of the way to him when she got close enough, making her stumble into his chest, and her other hand came up to steady itself using his shirt.

“It’s alright, I’ve got you,” he murmured. “Well, you made it. See? I told you... brave Princess,” he poked fun at her, but it came out a little deeper than he’d intended and her eyes flashed to his in a way that made his neck warm.

“I better not lose any toes to this frigid water,” she insisted. 

“Close your eyes,” he told her softly. She narrowed them at him suspiciously for a moment before sliding them shut and he passively noticed he was still holding her hand. 

“I’m not going to get eaten by some ocean creature, right? I read that oceans have sharks and it’s dark and - ”

“I’ve got you,” he repeated even softer and she gripped his hand just the smallest bit tighter.

“Okay, but what are you doing? You better not be getting ready to splash me. I swear to G - ”

“Just shut up for a minute would you?” 

“But - ”

“Stop. Talking.”

She sighed stubbornly and he didn’t even realize someone’s sigh _could_ be stubborn, but finally she listened to him. He let her get lost for a moment in the waves and the sounds it made, the sounds of laughter and children from over by the fire and the crackle of the flames.

“How does it feel?”

She took her time answering, so much in fact that he started to doubt whether she’d even heard him. He was just about to ask again when she finally said something.

“Peaceful,” she told him, a little sad. 

She opened her eyes and somehow in the time spent silent, they’d drifted even closer and he felt his heart start pounding a little. She looked at him, searching for something again, always searching. 

“Thank you,” she said simply.

“Anytime, Princess. The ocean will always be here,” he told her as he reached up with the hand not holding hers to tuck the errant strand behind her ear for her that time. He allowed himself a moment of indulgence and it was probably incredibly inappropriate and he’d like to blame it on the drinking but he felt pretty damn sober, but he let his fingers trail lightly across her cheek as he pulled his hand back anyway.

She opened her mouth to say something, but it was lost to the wind when her name was shouted across the surf towards them.

“Clarke!” Monty yelled, gesturing crazily between him and the ocean, Harper laughing hysterically behind him.

Clarke took a step back and released the hand she’d been holding and he took a deep breath to try to return his heartbeat to a healthy beat as she smiled at her friend and waved enthusiastically back.

When Harper sneak attacked Monty with a splash, capturing his attention again, he looked at Clarke to see her head ducked down, fingertips trailing across the top of the water.

“We should get back,” she said softly and he lifted his head to clear his throat a little. 

“Right. The fire is dying down anyway, I need to make sure everyone is doing okay.”

She hummed a little and gave him a small smile before turning and wading back to the shore. He watched as she grabbed her boots and treaded up the beach to the fire. He watched as she walked up to Lincoln and O to say goodbye, Octavia glancing in his direction after Clarke had moved on and he watched as she then walked to Murphy and watched as he tried to shove another drink in her hand, which she refused with a laugh he could almost hear. Then he watched as she disappeared around the other side of the fire, without so much as a look back in his direction. 

He tried not to feel disappointed at that.

***

Clarke woke early the next morning, despite only having slept for a few hours, she hadn’t realized how late she had stayed out the night before until she returned back to the cabin.

She wouldn’t even have believed last night actually happened if it weren’t for the light blue dress with a still damp and sandy hem laying at the foot of her bed. She took a deep breath and dressed for the day, grabbing some dried food from the jars in her cupboard (that never seemed to be empty) to eat for her breakfast. She laced up her boots and packed what little belongings she had accumulated over the last month in a small bag, really just some food, a spare pair of pants, the now empty bottle of alcohol that Octavia had given her on her first night and the little monkey figurine that Octavia had made her.

Clarke hesitated, trying to decide if this was really what she wanted to do. She almost changed her mind for what was probably the twentieth time since he’d told her she could leave and just stayed. She couldn’t deny that there was a not insignificant part of her that was dragging her feet a little. She hadn’t expected to feel this way, to be so conflicted. Her plan all along had been to leave the first chance she got, to go back to her people and get them back from Finn. But now that the chance was there, she wasn’t sure if she wanted to take it.

She hadn’t been fishing for him to give her permission to go, she really wasn’t. She was trying to just be honest and was surprised when he’d offered that up. She would never want harm to come to these people _or_ to Bellamy. So Clarke was also worried about what would happen to the village when Ice Nation found out. Maybe he would tell them she escaped, so it wouldn’t be their fault she was gone. She hoped that’s what he would say to them.

While she was standing in the water with Bellamy, with that peaceful feeling washing over her while the ocean swallowed some of her pain, it made her feel like she could breathe again. She couldn’t remember a time she’d felt like that recently, certainly not since Wells had died and she wasn’t sure if she was making the right decision, to give that and the people here that she’d begun to care about up. 

And then there was Bellamy, who, despite her best efforts, she just couldn’t seem to shake. It terrified her how close he’d gotten to her, and surprised her how much she didn’t actually want him to back away. His hand was warm in hers and it had felt _safe_ in a way that she hadn’t expected. And the way he’d been looking at her… she couldn’t figure it out, but it made her nervous, like she was standing on the edge of something. And she couldn’t work out if that edge was something she should back away from or jump off of.

She realized the moment she slid her eyes closed as he requested that she _did_ trust him. That it had somehow snuck up on her without her permission or without making a conscious choice to do it. It just happened. 

And she’d almost changed her mind right then.

Almost. 

She probably would’ve, if she had turned back to where she could feel him watching her as she walked off the beach. 

That was why she couldn’t. 

It terrified her that she could still feel his fingertips on her cheek. It terrified her to realize that the way he looked at her might have the power to change her mind.

So she finished packing up her things and left the cabin, relishing in the warmth of the sun as it beat down on her face when she stepped out the door. She went to Murphy and Monty’s first, knocking softly. Something thudded against the door, causing her to jump back.

“Go the fuck away,” Murphy’s muffled voice could be heard. 

“Monty?” she asked softly. There was another thud and some scrambling before the door opened.

“Clarke? What’re you doing? It’s barely dawn and I… I came back late last night.”

“From Harper’s!” Murphy added groggily from behind him. Monty opened his mouth to spout a retort, she was sure, but he clamped it shut and looked at Clarke sheepishly instead.

“Yeah… from Harper’s.”

Clarke smiled at him. “Can I talk to you a second?”

“Right now?” Monty asked, and Clarke nodded. “Okay…”

They sat on the porch. “I’m leaving,” she told him, getting straight to the point. “I… I need to see if I can fix this for our people somehow. Wells died trying to get to me and I need to… anyway I’d ask you to come with me, and obviously you’re still welcome to, but…”

“I’m happy here,” he finished her sentence for her and it wasn’t lost on her that he meant two different things with that statement. She nodded again. “I get why you have to go. I do, but you’re happy here too, Clarke. I see it. I know you’ve been closed off and trying not to let yourself because you think you don’t deserve it or something, but I see it. You like it here. Or you _could_ like it here, if you let yourself.”

“I know that. I know that,” she nodded, wiping an errant tear. “But I need to prove to myself that I’m not a prisoner, that I’m not a pawn in anyone’s game.”

“You could never be anyone’s pawn. You’re a fucking force of nature, Griffin” she heard from behind them. She looked over her shoulder to see Murphy standing in the doorway. “You’re really leaving?”

“I’m sorry, I just don’t know what else to do. I just know I have to try,” she tried to explain weakly. “If I don’t, I’ll always wonder if there was something more I could do, if I could reason with Finn somehow. I have to try,” she said again, desperately trying to get her point across.

Murphy searched her face. “Okay,” he finally said.

“Okay?”

“Yeah,” he said, shrugging and pushing off the doorway to head back inside. “I’ll see you later, _skaigada_.”

“Murphy, I’m not going on vacation, I’m leaving. I’m going home.”

He scoffed. “Home? Come on. You and I both know that place is not your home. But you do what you need to. And I’ll see you later,” he insisted, turning and going back inside without waiting for her response, slamming the door behind him. 

“He is maddening,” she mumbled. 

“Tell me about it,” Monty chuckled and bumped shoulders with her. “You were wrong before, you know.”

“Hmm, when? You’ll have to be more specific, I’m not usually wrong,” she joked.

“When you said last night that it was complicated trusting Bellamy because we didn’t know much about him. Sometimes it isn’t about how much you know about a person, it’s how you feel about them. You’ve got to trust your instincts sometimes.”

“I know that,” Clarke agreed quietly. “I know that too.”

\------------------------

Her goodbyes to Harper and Octavia went about the way she suspected.

Harper was sad, but understood and promised to watch over Monty.

Octavia was more like her goodbye with Murphy; she narrowed her eyes at Clarke, and tried to tell her she was being an idiot and should stay there, with them, but after Clarke spent some time rambling through why she needed to go and at least _try_ , she saw her soften a bit and finally relent. She hugged Clarke tightly and told her to be safe.

While she had prepared for their responses, actually walking away from both of them was much harder than she’d expected.

But it still wasn’t as hard as standing in front of Bellamy’s cabin, trying to muster up the courage to knock. 

Clarke tried to convince herself that she could just go. It wasn’t like she really expected him to care all that much about her leaving and had already given his permission for her to go. 

So why was just knocking on the door so much more fucking hard than it should have been?

Just as she was about to walk up, though, her decision was made for her when his door opened. His eyes squinted in the sunlight and searched around until they landed on her and his movements froze.

“Clarke?” he asked, confused.

“Um, yeah,” she croaked out.

“Everything okay? What’re you doing here?”

She shook her head, trying to clear it. 

“You’re leaving,” he said calmly, nodding to her small bag over her shoulder.

“Um, yeah,” she repeated lamely. “I’m… I’m sor - ”

He held up a hand. “You don’t have to explain yourself to me, Clarke. I gave you the choice, and... you decided,” he simplified for her.

“I have to try, I don’t know what else to do,” she said lamely and she realized it was the same jumble of words she’d said to the others. All it seemed she was good for now was confusion and indecisiveness, instead of the sureness she thought she’d have when she finally got to this point. 

“Is Monty going with you? Did you visit the stables for a horse?” he asked, in the most detached way she’d ever heard him speak. His wall that he let her see through last night was back up. He was trying to mask… something. Clarke saw his jaw working overtime and she had the brief urge to reach up to calm it down. 

She forced her hand to remain at her side. 

“Monty is staying. And I’m not taking one of your horses, Bellamy. I’ll be fine on my own. I can take ca - ”

“ - care of yourself? Yeah, I remember,” he told her. He walked down the step from his small porch, and started walking. “You ready?” he asked, when she had stayed stalled in front of his cabin. And even though she’d made her decision, _ready_ didn’t seem like the correct phrase for what she was. “Or is there someone else you needed to say goodbye to?”

“N - no. You’re the last,” she told him. He hummed, but said nothing, and continued his walk to the gate. She rushed to catch up. “You sure you’re going to be okay with Ontari? Ice Nation delegates come in a few days right?” she asked, wanting to check one last time that they'd be okay.

“I’ll figure it out. It’ll be fine, Clarke.” That was the third time he’d used her name and she realized that she was waiting for him to call her _Princess_ just one more time. 

They finished their walk in silence. When they got to the gate, Bellamy gave instructions to the guards in Trig and they nodded and stepped back, pulling the gate open. 

She didn’t know how to do it, say goodbye. They’d started out hating each other and ended up… well she didn’t know. But after what they’d shared the previous night, she couldn't just walk out.

“Bellamy - ” she started.

“Get home safe,” he told her, interrupting whatever it was that was going to leave her mouth. 

She nodded and her mind got stuck on his use of home. It sounded the same as it did when it had left Murphy’s mouth not an hour before, but before she could ask, he’d turned around and walked away. And it was her turn to watch _him_ as the gates closed on his back without him looking back. 

She wondered - and maybe hoped a little - that it was because it was too hard like it had been for her. Whether he felt the same disappointment of not seeing her look back at him one last time.

Clarke steeled her nerves, her conflicting thoughts and took a deep breath of fresh air and turned to start walking. Now that she was actually on her way, she realized she’d have to figure out what exactly she would say to Finn when she got there.

She had no fucking idea.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING** : Mention of sexual assault
> 
> Here I am with more angst! 
> 
> I hated separating them, but I felt very strongly that Clarke wouldn't just give up, that she needed to get away to realize where she truly belonged. It's very much the "not the family you were born into but the family you choose" kind of thought process. And I wanted Clarke to come to the realization that SHE was choosing them, and not because the choice was being made for her. I don't think that's spoiler, really, because obviously this is a Bellarke central story sooooo.....
> 
> Anyway... teaser for the next chapter is we finally get to see Clarke confront Finn! I should have it ready to post Wednesday. I wrote these chapters so fast that it's taking more editing than I thought it would to get them ready.
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!


	9. Chapter 9

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> I'm so excited you guys seem to still be enjoying this story, because we have a LOT of their journey left to tell and I am so excited to share with you this crazy roller coaster.
> 
> Anyway, enjoy!

If that was actually the last time he was going to see her, he was going to be so annoyed at himself.

It was his own damn fault. He’d told her she could go the night before and he’d meant it, genuinely, but selfishly hoped she wouldn’t take him up on his offer. He could hardly blame her. He tried not to feel disappointed, but he pushed it down the best he could and tried to go about his morning like nothing had happened. It terrified him to think of _why_ he couldn’t shake his disappointment and it didn’t matter anymore anyway; she was gone.

He grabbed the nearest tool to help with the construction of some extra cabins, making as much noise as he could, trying to drown out the mental tally in his head running through where she’d be at that moment, whether she’d had enough food and water with her to make the trek, the spots she might take a break at. The dropship wasn’t too far, but it wasn’t exactly an easy hike either. He was amazed Monty had made it in the condition he was in.

At the thought of food and water, he sighed. He hadn’t even checked to see if she had everything she needed. He was so concerned with getting her out of there before his wall broke that he just wasn’t thinking. When she’d shown up at his cabin that morning, he tried to not let her see how it affected him. He told her she could go. He told her she could go.

_He’d let her go._

He was going to hate himself if something happened to her out there.

But he tried to tell himself she wasn’t his responsibility anymore and he had to stop thinking about her as such. She’d chosen the sky people, and he had to respect that.

No matter how many times the night before ran through his mind.

The sun had started dipping low over the horizon before he realized he’d been working all day without stopping. Neither Murphy nor Octavia had come to find him, which was odd, considering they usually needed something or another.

He collapsed into his bed, nibbling on some dried fruit from his stores, and started into a fitful sleep, trying not to picture the way how soft her hair was or how he could practically still feel her hand in his.

\------------------------

Two days had passed when it happened.

Two days that he had been actively trying _not_ to think about her, to push her from his mind and move on. 

Then the ball of fire fell from the sky, like the world itself was working against him forgetting all about her. It was much smaller than the first ship, but it clearly had something to do with the sky people.

He debated what he should do, whether to send just scouts or to go himself. He needed to know what it was that happened. Clarke said the rest of Skaikru wasn’t due for at least four more months, and he expected it to be far bigger than what had just fallen.

The fact that he may run into Clarke while he was investigating had nothing to do with it. 

“Bellamy!” he heard his sister shout as he made his way to the front of the village.

“Yeah, O, I saw it! I’m headed out now,” he said, rushing through the list in his head of what he’d need out there. “Let Anya know I need two people with me and a ration pack.”

“Bell, you’re not going - no way.” The firmness of her tone made him stop and turn to face her. She’d stopped as well and stood with her arms crossed.

He was just about at the gates and he rolled his eyes at her, “O, I don’t have time to debate this with you. I need to get out there, see where it fell, if anyone needs help.”

“Bellamy Blake you have been stomping around this village for two days, trying to work up a reason to go out there.”

“That’s ridiculous. Why the hell - ”

“Save it. I know you too well. You don’t fool me. She’s got to be back at her ship by now. She chose to leave. You can’t force her to be here.”

“Fuck, O! Don’t you think I know that? Don’t you think I know I couldn’t make her stay? It’s the whole reason I let her go in the first place. I don’t want her to feel like a prisoner anymore. And it’s a moot point anyway, considering we weren’t even really friends,” he tried but he probably should have picked a less obvious lie. 

O’s eyes softened just a hair and he hated how well she knew him. “You can’t honestly believe that. In any case, you can’t go. Anya will send me and whoever else, but you have to stay here.”

“I am the leader of this village, O, I don’t _have_ to do anything.”

“Don’t be stupid. You just said it. You’re the leader. If whatever just happened is dangerous, you can’t get in the middle of it. Not until we know what we’re dealing with.” 

“Damn it Octavia!” He also hated how right she was. He shouldn’t go. He needed to stay to protect the village, get it ready for whatever it was that was going to happen next. But his legs felt restless.

“Hey look, I get it, okay?” she said, stepping closer to him and placing a hand on his arm. “Do you remember when I broke up with Lincoln, a few months after we were together?”

“Make your point, O.”

“Well, I had to let him go, had to lose him to realize how much I wanted him. It was fucked up, I know. I should’ve just gotten over my fears about being wanted and loved. But - it’s hard for us Bell, with the way we grew up. After what happened with Mom - ” 

“O,” he warned. He didn’t have time to get distracted with thoughts of the past, but she seemed intent on making her point. 

“Let me just get this out,” she said, squeezing his arm a little. “After what happened with Mom, we _weren’t_ wanted, we were considered the lowest of the village, until Luna took over. Until _you_ took over. It was hard for me to trust that Lincoln could possibly want me and that I was allowed to want him like that in return. So I had to lose him to realize how _much_ I wanted him, how much I'd fallen for him. I finally let myself see that.”

“This isn’t the same thing.”

“Bullshit. You think you don’t deserve to be happy or think you're supposed to want her. But it’s okay to admit it, it’s okay to realize that. It’s okay to say that you miss her and hope she comes back.”

“O, I - I can’t.” She was hitting too close to home. And if he never saw her again and he admitted that he might possibly want her like _that_ … what would that do to him? But even if he didn’t admit out loud, he knew that didn’t mean he didn’t still have feelings for her. 

She gave him a small smile. “It’s okay. But if or when she comes back or you see her again, do yourself a favor. Be honest, like Mom always taught us. Be honest with yourself and with her.”

He couldn’t look her in the eye anymore. She was right; she knew him too well, they were too similar. 

“I’ll go get Anya,” O said, having said what she needed to say to him. “Keep watch.”

“Yeah, I got it,” he managed to get out.

Not five minutes later, Anya came running out, Octavia and a couple other of their warriors at her side. He gave instructions to observe first, no violence unless in self-defense. Observe and report. That was the mission.

“And, O?”

“Yeah, big brother, I know.”

***

**  
_1 day ago_   
**

Clarke had been wandering around for a while. She tried not to think how ironic it was that now that she was free to go wherever, do whatever, she seemed to be dragging her feet. It should only have taken a day to get back to the dropship, but somehow, there she was, still in the middle of the forest at least a full 36 hours after she left Sonchahou. 

Her mind kept running through her last few days conveniently skipping over the bonfire, every time. She couldn’t do it. She wondered how Ankara was doing. She was already a week past when she was due for the baby and would Harper do okay helping her give birth without Clarke there? Harper was capable, of course she’d be fine, Clarke was being ridiculous.

Then she thought of Madi, and whether she was going to take Clarke’s advice to stay out of trouble so she wouldn’t get hurt or whether she had already had to visit Harper. She was a beautiful, rambunctious child, full of fire and spirit and _shit_ Clarke should have said goodbye to her too.

But no matter how many times she worried about how everyone was doing, how winter preparations were coming along, how the construction on the new cabins were coming along, whether anyone had moved into her cabin (because, yes, she could admit she’d started thinking of it as hers at some point), how low the clinic was getting on the red seaweed extract, how sweet it was to see Monty happy with Harper, despite all of that - everything that she’d told them when she left was still true.

She couldn’t just abandon the people at the dropship without at least having a _conversation_ with Finn. Even if the conversation ended with her punching him like she so desperately wanted to do. Even kind of _hoped_ she’d get to do.

She heard some rustling in the trees a little ways away, and crouched behind a large tree, waiting to see what it was. When it became clear it was voices, she hid, straining to hear if she recognized them at all.

She recognized a couple of them, so it must be patrols from the dropship. She must be getting close.

Although, they were pretty shitty patrols if they didn’t notice someone spying on them 5 feet away. 

Their patrols back at Sonchahou never missed a thing.

Clarke sighed when she realized she had just included herself when she said _their_ in referencing Sonchahou. Again. 

This was getting ridiculous. Or clearer. Either way, she pushed it away.

Once they were long gone and she was sure there were no other patrols nearby, she searched until she found a small cave about a half hour from the dropship to hunker in for the night. She hated the thought that she couldn’t just stroll in the front gates of a place that was supposed to be her home without fear of getting shot or imprisoned.

_Home._

There was that fucking word again. And it didn’t escape her attention, that for the first time, referring to the dropship as _home_ didn’t feel quite right. 

If Murphy was right, she would never live it down.

She tucked her arm under her head, using her pack as a pillow of sorts, trying to formulate a plan how to get Finn’s attention the next day, without alerting the whole camp. If she wasn’t careful, Finn might throw her back in lock up until Ontari took over and who knew where she’d end up that time. She needed _him_ to come to _her_ , on her terms.

Once she had a rough idea of what to do, she let her eyes start drifting shut. She couldn’t get comfortable, the rough cavern floor, the smell, it was all off. In her state somewhere between awake and asleep, she allowed herself to miss the salty ocean air and the pelts from her bed. She tried to remember the way Harper’s smile filled her whole face, the careful way Octavia whittled carvings, the smug look that Murphy seemed to always have on his expression, the way Monty furrowed his eyebrows when he was focused on something, and the sound of Bellamy’s laughter. 

She missed her friends. She missed the way they viewed life and each other and the way they viewed _her_.

It was those things running through her head that allowed her to finally relax and let sleep take her over, and not surprisingly, it was those things that she dreamt of as well.

\------------------------

It was time. She’d chosen to wait to get his attention until a couple hours before dusk to get his attention. She started her half hour hike to the camp, counting on the shadows and her knowledge of the woods to hide her. It had been just over two days since she left Sonchahou and as excited as she was when she first arrived on Earth to see the trees and forest, she was ready to be out of it.

One way or another.

But just as she was about to step around the tree to make herself known, a screaming ball of fire came shooting down from space. It landed with a large boom about an hour away in the direction of Sonchahou, to her estimation. It definitely wasn’t the exodus ship, and they weren’t scheduled to leave the Ark for another four months anyway. And that was if the dropship got the Comms working somehow to let the Ark know that Earth was survivable. They might never come down if they thought they were all dead from radiation. 

Her heart hurt with the thought that her parents might think she was dead, but the fact that something had just crash landed a little ways away needed to take precedence, so she compartmentalized those feelings to deal with later.

She was about to take off running towards the source of the crash, but at the last second saw and heard Finn and Mbege darting past her. She barely caught a glimpse of them as they ran, not even noticing that she was there. Thankfully she was familiar enough with the route (since she’d spent enough time stalling and mapping it out over the last few days) that she knew of a more direct route and could get there first. 

She took off, focusing on her breathing as she ran, so she wouldn’t have to stop as much as possible. 

Sure enough, she’d just reached the clearing where a small pod had landed, mostly intact if not a little charred which was basically a miracle considering it look ready to explode when it was screaming through the sky. Finn and Mbege came screeching out of the forest twenty yards to her left and she could sense their surprise at her presence. She was focused on the pod however, and started running for that to make sure there was no one hurt inside, but she froze when she heard the sound of a shotgun cocking. She closed her eyes and put her hands up, spinning around to face Finn and Mbege who did indeed have a gun trained right at her.

“Well, well, what do we have here? Hey, Princess,” Finn greeted with a smirk on his face that if Clarke were closer, she would have gladly wiped it off with her fist.

“Don’t call me that, you piece of shit,” she all but growled. Finn calling her _Princess_ sparked something in her; it sounded so wrong rolling off his tongue. So much for the calm conversation she was hoping to have.

Oh well.

If she thought she had an idea about just how mad she would be at Finn when they finally met face to face, it didn’t hold a candle to the actual rage coursing through her veins at that moment.

“Down girl. Wow, spending too much time in a grounder village turned you into a real savage, hmm?”

She gritted her teeth as her heart started pounding. “Finn, get your attack dog to lower the gun, _now._ ”

“Well, I don’t answer to you, not anymore, so I think I will indeed have Mbege here keep a close eye on you. Who knows what the savages have taught you since you’ve been gone.”

“Stop calling them that, asshole. They are a thousand times better people than you could ever dream of being,” she told him, feeling the truth in her words resonate through her entire being.

“Oh I don’t know about that, Ontari says - ”

“‘Ontari says’? What’re you, her puppet now? Ontari is a bitch who would just as soon kill you and take whatever the hell she wants because the trees are green. Are you seriously that dense? That’s who she is. She plays people like - ”

“ - she isn’t like that,” he interrupted. Clarke scoffed. “We are allies, our agreement saw to that. She and Azgeda protect us.”

“Bullshit. She’s _using_ you, _branwoda_ ,” she spit out, the Trig insult coming out as natural as her native language. It did not escape Finn’s notice either and he raised an eyebrow and smiled condescendingly.

“No she’s not. Now I know you’re jealous -" 

"Don't flatter yourself."

" - and we definitely had our fun, I was pleasantly surprised that the only girl going on the mission that wasn't a prisoner looked like that," he said gesturing to her body. Clarke felt like throwing up. "But really, Clarke. I had to do the right thing for my people.”

She took a half step forward, despite the gun being pointed at her face. The fury she felt was building to levels she didn’t even know possible. The idea that he was with her because he wanted to get laid after they reached the ground made her stomach churn.

But, instead of lunging for him, she laughed. “The right thing for your people? Are you fucking kidding me? You mean the right thing for _you_. Don’t pretend like you give a shit about _your people_. You wanted to be the leader, you wanted the power, so you got rid of me.”

His easy going shit eating grin changed suddenly, to something darker and more menacing. But she held her ground. Fuck if he thought he was going to intimidate her.

“Trikru would have killed us all if it weren’t for her! Ontari saved us. Stop being so damn selfish, Clarke,” he spat at her, venom dripping through every word. She was the one being selfish? “You’re just mad you aren’t in charge anymore. That you were _so bad_ at leadership that a mutiny of prisoners could overthrow you.”

She laughed again and his eyes shot daggers at her. But she didn’t let them cut her down, she was not some weakling. Wells believed in her, Monty believed in her, her friends in the village believed in her. Her parents believed in her. She didn’t need Finn.

“Mutiny? Did we switch from puppet to pirate now? You know, I came back because these were my people, my home, and I wanted to talk some sense into you.”

“Well you wasted your time. We don’t want you. No one misses you, except maybe Jasper and Miller, who’re both locked up for the time being. No one cares about you at all. And with Wells gone - ” he sneered, and the smirk left from her laugh left her expression and it was her turn to shoot daggers at him. She wanted to kill him. “ - well, there’s no one left. No one wants some Ark Princess in charge. Do you have any idea how _easy_ it was to convince them to give you up?”

He was right. She could fight tooth and nail for a place that didn’t want her, for people who didn’t care what happened to her, but at the end of the day, she’d fail every time. If they wanted Finn and Ontari, there was nothing she could do about it. The thought was sobering, but she refused to let him see her break.

“At least let me check if whoever is in that Pod is alright.”

“No. Whoever they are, they are from the Ark, which means they are _my_ people, not yours. Not anymore.”

“F - Finn? I made it?” a voice came suddenly and they both whipped their heads around. Speaking of the pod. “Piece of shit hundred year old Pod, it’s amazing I didn’t die in that thing.”

“Raven? Oh my - Raven!” Finn said, darting over to the girl who had just climbed out. 

“Finn! I found you!” the girl, Raven, exclaimed. 

The woman ran straight for Finn, who caught her in his arms, and promptly started kissing him. He gave her another lingering hug, looking at Clarke over her shoulder with a grin on his face. All Clarke could do though was just stand there. She kept begging her feet to move, to run while Finn was distracted, but she couldn’t help but gape at them.

This just kept getting worse.

“I can’t believe you’re alive. Everyone on the Ark is so worried! I had to hijack this hunk of junk because they were getting ready to give up on you guys,” Raven told him, before turning and noticing Clarke and Mbege, who had his gun pointed at the ground now. “Who are you two?”

“Who am I? Who the fuck are you?” Clarke asked, still dumbfounded, but finally able to find her footing.

“Clarke, this is my girlfriend of like ten years, Raven Reyes,” Finn said, smirking at Clarke.

“Eleven. Yo, Raven,” she said, walking over and sticking her hand to Clarke. “Wait, Clarke Griffin? Ark Princess. Hey, your parents are mega worried. Abby is the one who helped me commandeer this piece of shit,” she told her. 

She’d never met her, but Clarke had heard of Raven Reyes, the youngest zero-G mechanic in the history of the Ark. She was supposedly brilliant. 

She shook Raven’s hand, but addressed Finn. “Girlfriend, huh? Well look at you, you two-timing son of a bitch.” Then she turned to Raven. “I don’t know what you think you’ve landed into, but your boyfriend here is an asshole.” She probably shouldn’t have been so blunt, but Raven deserved to know, and Clarke was about to leave. 

Raven, for her part, didn’t look at all surprised like Clarke had suspected, just pissed off. “The fuck did you say?”

“Yeah, he started screwing me on the Ark when he found out we were coming down together, then a few weeks after we landed, he traded me so he could be top dog, because he was so damned threatened.”

Raven did look surprised then, almost like Clarke was speaking a completely different language. “Is this some kind of fucking joke?” 

Finn glared at Clarke for a moment before recapturing his girlfriend’s attention. “Rae, don’t listen to her. The ground, it’s messed more than one of us up. I’m trying so hard to keep things together,” he shook his head like he was in pain, and Raven’s hand flew to his cheek. 

Clarke, who had been able to keep a straight face for the most part, couldn’t help but drop her jaw. 

“So she…?” Raven trailed off, glancing back at Clarke. 

“You’ve got to be fucking kidding me,” Clarke mumbled. 

“Yeah, we lost Wells a few weeks ago and she just lost it. She’s been wandering around out here since. She just burst into the clearing when I did.”

“Don’t you dare use Wells like that,” she growled at Finn. “You can’t seriously be buying this shit?” Clarke asked Raven, dumbfounded.

“Well, he’s my boyfriend and best friend for my entire life, so if it’s between your crazy ramblings and his completely reasonable explanation… I'm going to go with him,” Raven said, grabbing Finn’s hand. While the asshole still had a concerned expression etched on to his features, Clarke saw his lips twitch just barely, trying hard not to smirk at her.

“Clarke, come back with us. Let us help you,” Finn fake pleaded. It was the same voice he used with her in all their times together, she realized. She couldn’t believe she’d been so thoroughly duped. And the worst part, she was coming to accept, was that on some level, she knew it. She knew it was all fake. Every time she was with him, it didn’t feel right, like he was too perfect, too charming. 

And her dad always told her to trust her heart and her instincts. It was time she actually did that.

“No,” Clarke said, finally completely sure. “I’m not coming back with you. The dropship is not my home anymore.”

 _Home_. 

She finally knew without a doubt where that was.

Damn it Murphy.

“Raven, when this - ” she waved at them and Mbege who was standing awkwardly off to the side. “ - goes sideways, and I promise you it will, head towards the ocean, about a day’s hike. That’s where I’ll be. Stay safe, and watch your back,” she warned, turning to head that way herself.

“Clarke,” Raven called after her. She stopped but didn’t turn back around.

“What am I supposed to tell your parents - that is, if my radio wasn’t trashed in the landing?”

Clarke hesitated and worked her jaw over, trying to keep a strong face on just a little while longer. Tears pricked at the corners of her eyes but she tried to keep them from spilling over. 

“Tell them... “ she turned just enough to address them. “Tell them I’m okay. And that I’m home and I’ll explain when they get down here,” she said sadly.

Raven looked like she might want to say something else, none of the anger from a few minutes ago left on her face. She just looked suspicious and maybe a little sad. She bit her lip when she looked at Clarke, brow furrowing a little like she was trying to figure something out. She looked back at Finn, who had resumed his fake compassion. She finally looked at Clarke and nodded, and headed to the Pod to probably begin stripping it down.

Clarke squared her shoulders again, the three of them behind her and left the clearing before they did, not needing to stick around to watch them strip the Pod of whatever Raven had packed.

She had other places she needed to get to.

It was time to go _home_.

***

It had been a full day and not one of his scouts had come back.

It was almost a full day’s walk to the dropship, so it shouldn’t surprise Bellamy too much, especially if whatever it was that crashed landed close to Skaikru. Still, it was driving him crazy not knowing if his people were okay. If… everyone was okay.

And, to his surprise, and despite all of his efforts to abandon thinking of her like that, _his_ people included Clarke. She’d been gone for three days and he was pretty sure that at this point she wouldn’t be coming back.

Part of him really thought she would. Almost like she would walk through the gates like she’d never left.

Besides how he was obviously feeling about her, it would have been nice to have a healer with medical knowledge of the Old Earth. It wasn’t often that they lost someone or someone came down with an ailment unknown to them, but it did happen and every single time, he wished that they could figure out a way to prevent it from happening again. 

Harper was exceptional. She was smart, quick on her feet, calm, caring. Bellamy grew up near her and they were friends as children. She had been training under their previous healer when he had a heart attack and died in the spring. Harper took over the best she could, absorbing all the knowledge she could from other clans, but it was nice to see her have help. To see her not be alone. 

He was so grateful for Monty and a few weeks ago he wouldn’t have dreamt of adding another sky person to his village, but Monty was right at home and it made his chest warm to see the two of them together. They didn’t seem to be denying much of anything anymore either; they were often seen sitting closer than necessary and giggling in each other’s ears. It was sweet. 

Murphy was clearly getting sick of it though, crashing in his cabin more and more often, grumbling how Monty was too disgusting to be around anymore.

He and Murphy were in the dining hall now, working on fixing a few of the tables. They had an incident at breakfast where one end had completely collapsed, all the plates sliding off and onto the floor. It was a giant waste of food, but these things happened sometimes. So they were working on that one, and reinforcing the others.

He had a whole crew of people assigned to fixing stuff like this, but when Bellamy needed something to focus on, something that would keep his hands busy, he preferred to take care of it himself. 

Murphy was about as helpful as a rock, but he kept Bellamy company and kept his mind off the fact that his sister was off in the forest doing or fighting who knows what. 

“So then I asked him, ‘she has a perfectly good cabin, why don’t you make out there?’” Murphy was complaining.

Bellamy stopped his hammer and looked at his friend. “You actually caught them making out?” he asked, resuming his hammering.

“Well, no. But that was obviously what they were going to do.”

“Right. I forgot you can predict the future.”

“Don’t be an ass.”

Bellamy just chuckled. “Hey, hand me that box of nails.”

“This one?” he asked, holding up a box. 

“Well, since that’s the only box of nails… yeah, that one.”

“Oh he’s a funny man now,” Murphy sneered, rolling his eyes. “So anyway, what are we going to do about this?”

He stopped again. At the rate he was going, the tables were never going to be fixed by dinner, but he couldn't help it. “Do about what? Murphy, man up,” he told him, resuming. “He’s your roommate, just talk to the man.”

“Ehh… got anything else?” 

Bellamy just shook his head. “Look, if you’re going to be in here, instead of being helpful out _there_ ,” he said pointing towards the door. “Pick up one of those hammers and at least pretend to be doing something, would you?”

Murphy pursed his lips. “Ehh…” he said again.

“Murphy!” Bellamy exclaimed, exasperated. 

“Okay, okay… stop freaking out,” Murphy mocked, still getting up.

“Been to see Aurora lately?” he asked Bellamy so out of the blue that he almost got his thumb.

Bellamy froze before turning and glaring at him. “Why are we still friends again?”

Now it was Murphy’s turn to be exasperated. “Come on, even _I_ have been to see her.”

“It’s not that weird, Murphy, she’s practically your mother too,” he grumbled. He knew exactly where he was headed with this line of questioning, but it was kind of like the ocean switching tides. You could try to out run it, but you could never change it. 

Aurora Blake still lived in the village, about a mile up the beach. She was still part of Sonchahou, a very important part, but as she grew older, she'd needed some space, some peace. Before Luna, Sonchahou was not always a pleasant place to live or work and their rough life had taken its toll on his mother. So when Bellamy was appointed the leader of the village, and the previous Keeper had abdicated his post, in opposition to Luna’s leadership, Bellamy asked if she wanted the job.

It had been longer than he remembered when her face had lit up and gripped Bellamy in her arms, grateful. She was a smaller woman, a lot like O, but she was fierce and strong, also a lot like O. 

When Murphy’s parents had died when he was still just a child, he spent his time wandering around, stealing scraps of food to eat, and Aurora had found him one day living alone, so she gathered him up without asking or acknowledging the sass that he was giving her and she brought him to their home. She set expectations and boundaries on Murphy that his family never had for him, so it was rough going for a while, but he straightened up and worked hard to overcome the reputation he’d had. She gave him a family.

“True, but that brings me to my point, so thank you for that,” Murphy pointed out and Bellamy just rolled his eyes again. “You’re her _actual_ son, and - ”

“She’d kill you - or at least swat at you - if she heard you saying that,” he whistled at Murphy, but he just waved it off.

“Anyway, why haven’t you been up there? She said it’s been a while.”

“Busy, Murph. Got a village to run.”

“Uh huh. You’ve always had a village to run, that’s never stopped you before.”

Bellamy sighed. “Yes, but things have been particularly tense lately.”

“Right. Right. Of course. So I’ll just go tell Aurora that the Sky Princess has been keeping you from visiting.”

He couldn’t help it. It would probably destroy more things and even possibly hurt Murphy, but he still chucked that hammer as hard as he could towards Murphy.

Murphy whooped and jumped out of the way, laughing.

“Shut it, Murphy. That would bring all kinds of shit down on me from her _and_ O. And for no reason,” he tried. “Shit, Murphy, she doesn’t even live here anymore and we’ll probably never see her again. So just drop it.”

“Sure. Except…”

“Ugh, _what_?”

“Except, you do know she’s coming back, right?”

“No, she isn’t. She made her choice. And she was never supposed to be here anyway. She belongs with her people. It’s why I let her go, and why I now need to figure out how I’m going to keep Ontari from finding out…”

That was a problem he still hadn’t worked out yet. He was being completely sincere when he told Clarke that she shouldn’t have to worry about them; she was the one who was kidnapped and forced into a village against her will. He was the leader, it was up to him to figure out what the right thing to do was.

With whatever it was crashing and Octavia leaving, he was embarrassed to say that he’d forgotten Azgeda delegates were due to arrive any day. 

“She _is_ supposed to be with her people. I just don’t think her people are the Sky people anymore.”

“That’s not the way it works.”

“You know just as much as I do that your people are who you choose, and who choose _you_ ,” he said, quieter and more solemn. Bellamy knew that if Aurora hadn’t found him that day, he’d have most likely wandered off and never been heard from again. Their people didn’t want him; his parents’ crimes were his crimes to the people who used to run the village. Their people looked down on the Blakes after what happened when Aurora was attacked, but the village didn’t try to outright oust them like they did Murphy. So he got it. 

Sometimes their real people were not the people they were born into, but the people they love.

Or tolerate, at least, in Murphy and Bellamy’s case right now, if Murphy kept driving him crazy.

David saved him from having to answer, however, by bursting into the room. 

“They’re back!” he declared.

"Go tell Lincoln!" he directed at the guard. Bellamy and Murphy didn’t take the time to say anything else as they bolted out of the room. They didn’t stop until they reached the gates, skidding to a stop by the tall walls. 

“Where are they?” he demanded.

“We saw them off a ways still, but I wanted you to be here when they reached the gate.”

Bellamy nodded towards the man and tried to wait patiently while they opened the gates. As soon as it was big enough for him to squeeze through, he darted out and when he caught sight of his sister, he ran towards her. 

No matter how much faith he had in her abilities as a warrior, or how easy the mission was supposed to be, it always felt like a weight was lifted the moment she got back. 

He looked around at the team, making sure everyone was safely back and no one was missing. It wasn’t until he’d counted twice, still hugging Octavia, that he noticed he'd counted one too many.

Later, he would remember that his heart skipped a beat at her arrival, at the blonde waves and blue eyes over Murphy’s shoulder who had run to greet her. But all his brain noted at that moment was that she was back. Clarke was back and looking hesitant and unsure and more self-conscious than he ever remembered her looking before.

But she was _back_. 

And she was staring right at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can never keep them apart for TOO long! But I'm excited to share with you how Octavia and Clarke ended up in the same group and Clarke's official integration in the village and how Bellamy will react.
> 
> And Raven is here! She's not a huge part of this story, but I was so excited to get her down on Earth. 
> 
> And I'm also excited to have Aurora enter the story soon too. I left where she was a little vague, we'll get more on her later. 
> 
> Oh! And we've got Azgeda on the way too!
> 
> Lots coming up! I'll see you guys with Chapter 10 on Saturday ❤❤


	10. Chapter 10

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> Clarke's back! 
> 
> This is more of a transition chapter, establishing Clarke back in the village, and some sweeter, lighter moments, so I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> I love hearing from all of you, it seriously makes my day so thanks to those who have bookmarked, subscribed, kudo-ed, or commented, or even those readers who haven't done any of that, but enjoyed the story anyway. You all are awesome! ❤
> 
> Stay safe and healthy friends!

**_12 hours ago_ **

Clarke had been walking for a while, headed towards the ocean. Her nose ached for the salty air and the sand. She’d never been on a beach before the bonfire and wasn’t really sure if she liked it at first, but once she stepped into the water and felt it swirl between her toes as her feet sank below the surface, she loved the way it felt against her skin. It was something other than the soles of her boots, which constantly put her on edge.

It was funny how shoes could do that. How her senses and body knew that she should be ready to run, or ready for a fight, just by what was on her feet. 

It wasn’t like that with the sand though, that felt like _freedom_. It felt like peace and joy wrapping around her tired, tense feet and putting her senses and muscles at ease.

She was looking forward to doing and feeling that again when she got back.

Assuming, they’d even let her back. She’d been pretty vocal about wanting nothing to do with the village, nothing to do with the people. And when she had been given the choice whether to leave or stay, she abandoned them. Sure, she had her reasons, most of which seemed naive and stupid now, but still, she had left.

She’s not sure she would be as forgiving of anyone else if the roles had been reversed. 

She’d have to ask Bellamy for permission to come back. He’d said she was welcome at any time, but whether he meant it or not she wasn’t entirely sure. He seemed like the kind of person to be upfront and not say things he didn’t mean, but maybe he’d only said that because he didn’t actually think she would be back.

Something about the earnest and raw way he’d spoken to her that night on the beach made her think that he was being honest though.

But even if he was going to say yes, with or without question, she’d still have to put her pride aside long enough to even ask. She hated admitting that she’d made the wrong choice. It made her feel weak, and worthless, like if she couldn’t lead, if she couldn't be counted on to make the right decision, why even bother. But she was going to anyway, because Sonchahou was home to her now, and she hoped her friends wouldn’t be too angry at her. 

Would they even want her to come back?

In the midst of her trying to figure out exactly what to say to Bellamy, a hand came out of nowhere and put her flat on her back, knocking the wind out of her lungs. 

“What. The. Fu - fuck?” she wheezed. 

The sun was blocking her view of whoever was currently on top of her. The sun, and the spots that appeared in her vision when she was tackled. 

“Clarke?” a familiar voice asked. “What are you doing here? We thought you’d be back at your ship by now.”

She knew that voice, but there was no way. She must be hallucinating someone she _wanted_ it to be. Clarke squinted and raised her head, moving it around to get a better view of her assailant. When she saw the long brown hair braided partly back, the war paint on ridiculously sharp cheekbones, and green eyes peering down at her in confusion, she gasped.

“Octavia! What are you doing here?” she asked. “And do you mind maybe letting me up?”

“Oh yeah, sorry,” Octavia said, moving her knee off Clarke’s abdomen and removing her hands from pinning down Clarke’s arms. She extended her hand to help Clarke up and while Octavia was definitely skinnier and smaller than Clarke was, she didn’t seem to have any trouble helping Clarke up like she weighed nothing. 

Clarke, however, groaned loudly, and tried to adjust to the dull pain still residing in her chest.

“Sorry, we heard someone, obviously you, from the top of that ravine over there. By the time I made it down the slope I only had a minute before you would’ve made me, so I had to go on the offensive and get the upper hand.”

“You almost killed me,” Clarke told her with no real annoyance in her tone. It was actually kind of funny.

“Oh please, if I wanted you to be dead, you’d be dead,” she told Clarke cheekily. And she wasn’t exactly wrong. She whistled up the slope and two more warriors, one who she recognized as Anya. Bellamy must’ve sent them out after the Pod. “Speaking of, when we get back to the village, we’re going to have to start you with some training. I should’ve never been able to sneak up on you like that.”

“Thanks?” she asked, not sure if she should feel insulted that Octavia thought so little of her fighting skills or honored that she thought she was even worth training. 

But then something she said stuck out to Clarke.

“Wait, when _we_ get back?”

“Well, yeah. If you’re all the way over here, I assume you’re on your way home?” she asked, trying and failing to disguise a tone that Clarke thought sounded hopeful. When she didn’t answer, mostly because she had no idea what to say, Octavia tried to backpedal and she’d never seen the girl so flustered before. “Unless, you know, you’re out hunting, or whatever. Maybe scavenging for medicinal plants? Oh! You’re probably looking for the ship that fell! It’s about half a day’s hike that way,” she pointed towards the direction Clarke had just come in. “But it’s - ”

“No.”

“No?” 

“No, I’m not looking for the pod or any of that stuff, I’m… you were right. I’m on my way back to the village,” Clarke cringed a little at how shaky her voice sounded.

Octavia clamped her mouth shut and just looked at her. Looked at Clarke for so long that she started fidgeting under the gaze. 

“O! What’s going on? You coming? Who’s that?” Anya called from the ridge.

Octavia held a hand up and finally looked away from Clarke. “This is my friend, Clarke. She’s coming home with us.”

\------------------------

The entire walk back was mostly silent. Clarke had expected Octavia to have more questions or want to know everything that had happened over the last few days, but she didn’t and the comfortable silence that they existed in so well together took over. She was grateful that Octavia seemed to understand that Clarke was nervous and exhausted over what had happened, even if she didn’t know what exactly occurred.

Clarke was fine with that; she still wasn’t entirely sure what had happened herself. So much had happened so quickly and she was still working to process it all. She was sure a conversation would happen eventually and Clarke _did_ want to talk about it, especially if she was going to fully embrace Sonchahou as her home. But it was nice to not feel that pressure or any expectation of it.

She just accepted Clarke as part of their journey home and that was that.

She walked up to the tall gates, safe and sturdy, and heard commotion from behind them. She was sure Bellamy would be there, as someone probably ran to grab them as soon as they caught sight of Octavia. Since there weren’t many siblings on the Ark and Wells was the closest person she had as one, it was fascinating to see their connection. He’d be worried about her, especially if he didn’t know what the ship was. Monty might not even realize what it was, being this far away. It would just look like a ball of fire, a meteor maybe.

The gates opened and sure enough there was Bellamy standing with Murphy, arms folded in a scowl she suspected was fake, meant to mask his determination to make sure his sister was okay. 

She had no idea when she had started reading him so well.

The siblings darted for each other, Octavia flinging herself into her brother’s arms. Clarke hung back near the tree line though, knowing that she needed to still make sure it was okay that she was even there. Her smart mouth had gotten her into a few scrapes through the years and the past month and a half of being in the village had been no exception. Save the night of the bonfire, they hadn’t always gotten along, so she wasn’t sure what to expect.

Before she could think too much on it, however, Murphy of all people had rushed up to her, extending his arm in greeting. He had a shit eating grin on his face and she knew what he was going to say before he even said it. 

“Told ya so.”

“Yeah, yeah, whatever.”

“ _Monin hou, skaigada,_ ” he told her. 

“Something… home? Welcome home?” she guessed, a smirk creeping on her face. She was going to need to learn the language at some point too. 

He nodded. And as he was laughing and clapping her on her shoulder, she glanced around again, letting her gaze land on Bellamy, who was looking around over his sister’s shoulder, verifying they were all okay. She wondered if he’d seen her yet.

As soon as his eyes locked with hers, she knew he hadn’t. They widened and his head cocked slightly, like he was wondering if he was really seeing what his eyes told him he was. The smallest of smiles crept on his face, just enough for Clarke to see it since she was already looking at him, but if she blinked, she’d miss it.. A smile that a passing thought in her mind sort of hoped was for her. Which was a stupid thing to think.

Thoughts like that couldn’t be allowed to exist.

Just like the thought that now that she saw him, she hadn’t realized how much she had missed _him_ , specifically. His smile, his warmth, the way he looked at her. 

If Clarke was comparing, which she definitely wasn’t, but if she _was_ , the colors she’d use for him were oranges, yellows, reds, browns. Whereas Finn would be blues and grays, ones that made her feel colder. 

She hadn’t realized how stark the difference between the two men were until she’d seen them both within a day.

And she _also_ tried not to think about how, as an artist, she always preferred the warmer colors to the cooler ones. 

Except when it came to the ocean.

“David!” Bellamy called over his shoulder, eyes holding onto Clarke’s until the last second. Everytime he looked at her like that, something in her stomach flipped automatically. She never could quite pin down what was going through his mind when he did that. “Will you go let Maya know Anya and the others are back and to set five plates aside for extra food for dinner?” then turning back to Octavia, he said, “I’m sure you all could use a hearty meal after the last couple days.”

“You know it!”

“But first, Anya, anything of emergent concern I need to know about?” he asked, his protective leader expression back on and looking past them in the trees as if they might have been chased there.

“No. We can wait until our meal for the full report,” she told him. 

The group turned and started to head inside. It was only after they had all gone a few steps and she remained where she was that she registered that he had said _five_ plates, automatically including her.

Still, Clarke hesitated to follow, and her indecision did not go unnoticed.

“ _Hoz op_ , Clarke. Bellamy and I still need to finish fixing the tables in the dining hall if we don’t want to sit on the floor for dinner,” Murphy told her, slight annoyance in his tone.

Her stalling waned and she followed after him, curious now. “ _You’re_ fixing tables?” She didn’t know Murphy all that well, his background and connection to Bellamy was still mostly a mystery to her, but she did know that if there was one thing Murphy was not, it was handy.

He rolled his eyes. “Fine. Bellamy is fixing the tables, and I’m there to provide commentary and nails.” Off Clarke’s raised eyebrow he added, “What? That’s important too. Now _let’s go_ ,” he said in English that time.

“Okay, okay, I’m coming.” He flung an arm around her shoulders and started guiding her inside the gates. But she had to ask one more thing, something she _should_ be asking Bellamy, and she would, but she still needed to gather her nerves before she did, wanting to make sure she didn’t sound indecisive to him anymore. “Are you sure it’s okay, Murphy? I mean, I left… people might not want me back.” she pointed out.

He sighed, and not at all sarcastically like she had thought he might. “You came back. That’s what matters. We all make mistakes, Clarke, believe me. It’s how you deal with them, how you fix them, that makes the difference. And it wasn’t even really a mistake,” he shrugged. “You… you grew up with those people, trusted them. Of course you would want to go back. No one blames you for that.”

“Not even Bellamy?” she asked more directly. He raised an eyebrow at her. “I mean, he is the leader of the village,” Clarke tried to clarify before Murphy got the wrong idea, though at this point, she wasn’t entirely sure that _wrong_ was the correct word. “And it’s kind of up to him if he wants to let me back in. I wouldn’t blame him if he didn’t trust me. We weren't… well, I’m not really sure _what_ exactly we were when I left.”

“Bellamy will be fine. I promise,” he told her, smiling and shaking his head a little. “He might be a grump and act indifferent or stubborn or whatever, but I promise you’ll be welcomed back when you talk to him. He included you in the extra food at dinner, right? Which, by the way, if you don’t want, I will happily help with,” he teased, in that very Murphy way of him actually being completely serious.

“Okay. I can at least ask.”

And the moment she stepped inside and the gates closed, she inhaled deeply, smelling the salty air that she missed so much.

***

It took everything in Bellamy to put one foot in front of the other without looking back. It felt like an itch on his back, one that kept urging him to check to make sure she was following the group. From his vantage point, it looked like Murphy wasn’t going to let her shirk off into the trees again, so he had to trust that his friend would be able to coax her inside.

When they were back in the gates, he lost the battle with the urge and threw over his shoulder, “Murph get a move on, we need to get those tables finished.” When he saw that Clarke was indeed walking along with them, he added, “You can head over to the clinic to let Harper know you’re back, Princess, and drop your stuff off at your cabin.” 

Murphy saluted him, making Bellamy roll his eyes and turn back around to face the direction of the dining hall. Octavia had run off to meet Lincoln, who had just gotten to them when they stepped in the gates.

“Glad you’re back _skaigada_ ,” he heard Murphy tell Clarke. Then he heard his friend drop his voice slightly, enough that it sounded like it was supposed to be private, but loud enough to make sure Bellamy could hear him. “Or are you answering to Your Majesty these days, _Princess_?” 

He refused to turn back, refused to acknowledge Murphy’s mocking use of the nickname, knowing he was doing it to needle him which was going to go nowhere productive. Bellamy clenched his jaw and used most of his self control to hold firm, waiting to hear what Clarke’s response would be.

To his amusement, she didn’t say a word, but he did hear a very distinct smack and Murphy swearing, “Son of a bitch Clarke!” and he couldn’t help the grin that appeared in his expression.

\------------------------

Dinner was crowded that night, everyone concerned about the ball of fire of the sky and what it meant for their people. Bellamy was glad to have thought of the extra food for the warriors to be set aside. They weren’t in any danger of running low on food, they had good hunters and quite the fruit orchard to the west side of the village, but he knew how Octavia would never take seconds, even if she needed it, if there were this many people in the hall, despite their food stores.

Clarke walked in as they were sitting down and he stood to get her attention, which was a little pointless, since her eyes had found him first. He gestured to the tray across from him for her to sit. No one else from their group had arrived for dinner yet, so it was just the two of them, which made him annoyingly nervous.

“Hey,” he started.

“Hi,” she replied, none of her earlier hesitancy in her tone. “So where is everybody? I mean, I know Harper and Monty were finishing up extracting some of the red seaweed I got while I was… uh, gone, but Octavia?”

He cringed a little, and she looked confused, so he explained. “Octavia is… well when she gets back from missions, her and Lincoln tend to quarantine themselves in their cabin for a few hours and I… well let’s just say I keep a wide berth around their place.”

Clarke bit her lip in an effort to hide her laughter, but was failing miserably. He tried not to think about her lips beyond that.

“Yes, ha ha very funny. Laugh at the big brother trying to hold on to even a small dose of ignorance.”

She finally let the lip loose and grin widely, one of the grins he’d seen at the beach that night, and _fuck_ his memory had been doing the beauty of it no justice whatsoever so he swallowed hard, trying to keep his own grin in response from creeping onto his face.

This attraction that he felt for her needed to get in check, quick. It’s not like she felt the same about him, and it wasn’t exactly appropriate for him to make a move or anything, so he needed to figure out a reign himself in.

“Good for her,” Clarke said cheekily.

He just narrowed his eyes and shook his head at her, stabbing at something on his plate, shoving it into his mouth.

“Oh shut up,” he mumbled lightheartedly.

“Oh come on, she’s got someone she misses when she’s gone. Isn’t that kind of beautiful?”

His gaze snapped to hers, and he noticed her eyes looked like they were lighter, less stormy than they had been when she left, and when exactly did he start cataloging the different shades of her eyes?

He’d like to blame Octavia for putting the thoughts into his head, but if he was being honest his feelings towards Clarke had started before their conversation. Still, he tried to tell himself that it was purely physical and he’d be a fool _not_ to notice her beauty, but he knew it was more than that.

“Fine. But I’m switching topics before you actually make me acknowledge what exactly she is doing,” he said candidly. “So, you’re back. Looks like Octavia wasn’t the only one that missed… um, home?” he asked lamely. He’d realized too late to stop it from coming out of his mouth, that he was about to make the comparison between Octavia and Lincoln to Clarke. There was no way she missed him the way he missed her, but he let it go anyway and waited to see what her response would be.

“Hmm,” she hummed. “Home. Yeah, I guess I did,” she agreed, to his surprise. Though he shouldn’t have been, he knew Clarke was unflinchingly honest. “You know, my father used to tell me that your home is the place that when you leave, you just _miss_ it,” she finally said. “And I missed it here. I missed the people. I found myself wandering around the forest like an idiot, stalling,” she chuckled a little, shaking her head. “Avoiding finally getting back to the dropship. If that was truly my home, where I was supposed to be, why was I dreading it so much?”

He stayed silent, wanting her to get out what it was she needed to say. The noise from the kids swirling around them and the laughing and utensils clattering faded to the background at his realization that she _did_ miss them. He’d like to think he was included in that.

“And when I did finally make it there, it was all wrong. It was colder, somehow. Maybe it was because of Wells that I had built it up in my head or something. Still, I was going to try. I don’t know if you’ve figured this out or not yet, but I have a bit of a stubborn streak?” she joked, and he had to bite the inside of his cheek to keep from laughing. “It’s okay, I’m not offended, you can laugh,” she chuckled a little at him.

“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” he tried to say seriously, but he was quickly losing control of his facial features.

“ _Anyway_ , I was there so I was determined to see it through. Then the Pod came flaming out of the sky and Finn and one of his minions flew past me on their way to it. But I got there first.” She stopped for a moment. “This is too much detail, you don’t care about any of this. I’m sorry, I’m rambling.”

“No I do care, go on.”

“Well, long story short, they held a gun on me while Finn… well, he said… some asshole - ish things. Nothing I should have been surprised about, but if I needed confirmation that this wasn’t all a big misunderstanding, I sure got,” she said vaguely and dipped her gaze to focus on the table and he could only imagine the vile things someone like Finn would’ve spit at her. His hand fisted on his knee under the table. “And then I got to find out that the person in the Pod was his girlfriend of eleven years,” she laughed and shook her head, like she still barely believed it. 

“Son of a bitch,” Bellamy exclaimed, trying to keep his tone under control. “Well, I’m sure she wasn’t too happy to find out what a lying piece of shit her boyfriend is.”

She chuckled a little, “Yeah, you’d think. But she believed his crazy-ass spin of what happened. And of course she did, she loves him, or thinks she does. He said I lost my mind because of the grief of losing Wells,” she told him, her voice breaking a little.

That was awful. That he used someone so important to her to explain his horrible actions, just so that he didn’t have to endure any consequences. It was sickening. And made Bellamy furious. “I’m…”

“Don’t, it's okay. I don’t need pity or you to feel sorry for me, I just want to explain what happened,” she told him, her gaze still on her food.

“I don’t pity you Clarke,” he told her firmly, and she finally looked back at him. He remembered that night on the beach, the way she’d looked at him with compassion and he hoped his expression told her something similar. She looked doubtful, so he decided to elaborate. “I think you’re fucking strong for enduring all of that. Being told you’re crazy, that you don’t have the grasp on reality that you think you do, to use someone you cared about against you, that’s fucking messed up of him to try. But you aren’t crazy. You haven’t lost your mind. 

“And…” he hesitated, wondering a little bit if he was going too far, overstepping some boundary that he didn’t have permission to cross. But fuck it. “ _I_ believe you. _We_ believe you,” he insisted, hoping to give her some measure of reassurance. “And some day, unfortunately, this girl - ”

“Raven,” she told him.

“ - Raven. Someday this girl will believe you too. Because fuckers like Finn, they always get what’s coming to them. One way or the other.”

She gave him a small smile and her eyebrows pulled together, scrunching a little, as if she was trying to figure out if he was being sincere or not. 

“Thank you,” she settled on. There was a brief pause and he could see her jaw working overtime. “So, I know...” she started and stopped, closing her eyes and huffing a bit, like whatever she was about to say was tough for her. 

He had a pretty good idea of where she was headed, and already knew what his response would be, but he also knew that she had to say it out loud. Needed to, if she was ever going to be comfortable in the village.

She took a deep breath and opened her eyes to look straight at him, her chin up in determination. “I know that I haven’t exactly made things easy around here, and we’re not exactly friends?” she asked tentatively, like she was feeling him out for whether he considered them friends or not. His eyebrows shot up in response, and his lips tried to quirk up to one side. “But I’d really appreciate it if I could stay here. In Sonchahou. Permanently.”

She clearly noticed him trying not to smirk and failing because her lips were twitching up too. He looked at her for a moment, watching her stay firm in her request, her fidgeting fingers the only thing giving away her nervousness about asking, as if there was even a chance he was going to say no. 

“Sure,” he said simply, shrugging. “You going to eat those carrots?” he asked, switching subjects, enjoying _way_ too much watching her face turn red and flounder around.

“Uh, um, n - no. You can have them,” she answered, pushing them towards him. “And thanks, for letting me stay.”

“This is your home, Clarke, you don’t need to thank me.”

Octavia walked up them then, flopping down dramatically next to Bellamy, moaning loudly. “I am so fucking hungry,” she whined.

“Hmm… wonder why?” Clarke mused, a smile on her face. 

Bellamy glared at her and saw her eyebrow raise on one side, clearly teasing him. He kicked her lightly under the table and threw a carrot back at her, making her grunt at first, but then laughed mockingly at his discomfort.

“I’d tell you all about it, but Bellamy would do more than kick me under the table if I did,” his sister told her. Bellamy rolled his eyes and groaned, pretending to put his hands over his ears. “Oh stop, Bell. I’m not going to say anything.”

“Okay, so what happened out there?” he asked, switching subjects before the two of them could gang up on him any further.

“Well, the Pod - ” she started, looking at Clarke for confirmation he guessed, on what the thing that fell was, to which Clarke nodded. “The Pod was empty by the time we’d gotten there. Nothing of real value inside.”

“Raven and Finn would have stripped it of any tech or weapons before they left.”

“Right. We picked up their trail, but decided instead to head back, knowing that whatever it was that was inside probably wouldn’t be of much consequence to us. We don’t exactly have much use for tech here,” she shrugged. “And it was a two person Pod so it definitely wasn’t reinforcements sent down by the Ark.”

“No, they won’t be coming for at least four more months, maybe even longer if they can’t make contact. Our - their leaders might decide that the ground isn’t survivable and the oxygen system would have been fixed by then,” Clarke told them, voice cracking. Bellamy guessed that had something to do with her parents thinking she was dead. If they didn’t come down, she’d never see or speak to them again. 

And that reminded him of his conversation with Murphy earlier, about visiting his mother. He really needed to make time tomorrow to go over there. 

“Okay then. Sounds like it was pretty clear cut. So how did you two run into each other?”

“She tried to kill me,” Clarke said, smirking at his sister.

“Oh for the love of - dramatic much? I did not!” his sister refuted.

“You tackled me to the ground!”

“Which in and of itself shows that I wasn’t going to kill you! If I wanted you dead, I would’ve had a knife in my hand.”

“That’s fair,” Clarke smiled at her and the two burst into a fit of giggles. His sister laughed often, but _giggling_ was not a common thing for her. He was grateful for the camaraderie between the two already. 

“So when should we start your training?”

Clarke rolled her eyes, but she had a little bounce in her posture and she actually looked a little excited, which was incredibly endearing. “Anytime. As long as it doesn’t entail you just popping up from around corners to knock the wind out of me.”

“Maybe I will. Something to be said of flinging you in the fire,” O joked and Clarke threw one of her potato slices at her. It was his turn to laugh then, until they both threw potatoes at _him_. Before it could evolve into a full fledged war however, Monty and Harper walked up to them, Monty flinging his arms around Clarke from behind. 

“Monty! We already did this,” Clarke laughed, but her arms came up anyway to hug him back.

“I know, but I’m just so glad you’re back.”

“Me too.”

The rest of dinner trickled along pleasantly and on their way out, as the group parted to leave to their own cabins, Murphy sighing loudly when Harper and Monty made a show of saying goodnight in a way that made even Bellamy’s neck turn red. Clarke started wandering off, and he called out to stop her.

“Yeah?” she asked, turning around, looking at him but not quite meeting his eyes. He noticed he wasn’t the only one whose neck was a little redder. 

“I know you implied that we weren’t really friends, and I’m not going to try to tell you how you feel about _me_ , but I wanted - needed you to know that that’s not how I feel, not at all,” he told her, rushing to get the words out before he could overthink it. It was a good thing the sun had set, because if his neck wasn’t warm before, it definitely was now. “I’d really like it if we were… friends,” he finished lamely, feeling like he was still a teenager or something and he ran his hand through his hair.

She smiled at him, and nodded. “I’d like that too.”

“Good, okay then,” he confirmed, feeling awkward all of a sudden, especially when he noticed how close they’d drifted. He couldn’t figure out how exactly that had happened, since he hadn’t really given his feet permission to get that close. “Okay, friends. Um, goodnight, then, I guess, Princess,” he added and was entirely too happy for his own good when her smile widened even more. 

He turned quickly before he could make a bigger fool out of himself, making his way back to his cabin. But not before he heard her reply, “Goodnight, Bellamy.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Aww those two! Such dorks. 😍
> 
> And I want to fully credit the show OUAT for that "home is where you just miss it" line. I love that concept and I felt like it really fit with what had happened with Clarke in the forest the last chapter.
> 
> Okay, one last note. Just so you all know, I will have to throw some warnings up on the next one because we've got some really heavy stuff coming up towards the end of the chapter. 
> 
> I'll have to add some new tags up as well, which may be slightly spoilery, but I really don't want anyone getting blindsided either. If you have any suggestions on how to handle that, I'm all ears. 
> 
> I should have it up by Monday night/Tuesday morning. Official distance learning starts for my kids on Monday so I might not have as much time to edit as I'd like. I'll try to get up as soon as I can though. 
> 
> Have a great weekend!


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello! I'm sorry this is late for some of you, it's only Tuesday morning here, but I know some of you are on a different time zone than I am. Distance learning for the kids yesterday was... an adventure to say the least and I ran out of time to finish editing. 
> 
> Plus also, this chapter ended up just north of 10k. So there's that. I hadn't realized it had gotten that long and allllllmost split it, but after spending all night tossing around whether to do that or not and begging my poor husband to help me figure it out, I decided to just post it all at once. ❤
> 
> We have a **warning** for this one, so if know there is something you need to know ahead of time, make sure to click on the link to jump to end notes. It's spoilery, so I wasn't going to add it to the main tags up top for a few more days. PLEASE let me know if I need to do it now instead of waiting though. I'd much rather people be spoiled than triggered.
> 
> A warning that isn't so spoilery though so I'm putting it up here, is that there is a birth in this chapter and while I think I kept it from being too graphic, I wanted people to just be warned that it was coming.
> 
> Hope you enjoy and thanks again for all the amazing support from everyone!

Clarke woke up the next morning in her own bed, surrounded by the pelts that she’d become familiar with, the soft warmth of them cradling all the aches and pains from the forest and cave floors of the previous few days.

Her cabin was just how she’d left it, though she hadn’t really expected Bellamy to move someone else in so quickly after she’d left. Or, rather, she had hoped he wouldn’t. 

She sort of hoped he hadn’t because he was hoping she’d come back. That was a lot of hoping though. When they’d talked the night before before she headed back to her cabin the night before, there was a weird charged energy in the air that hadn’t been there before. He looked nervous when he was telling her that he’d like them to be friends, as if she might actually turn him down. 

Clarke could totally see where he was coming from, since she’d only just gotten back, but she was in it. She was completely committed to the village, to the people she’d become close to, and that included him. 

Maybe especially him. She wasn’t supposed to have thoughts like that, but they were coming quicker and easier and getting more difficult to push away. 

It was becoming ridiculous, how easily she noticed the warmth of his dark eyes, the softness of his brown curls that she just knew was soft without ever having actually touched them, or the cascade of freckles that peppered his cheeks. His smile made her smile automatically and it was beginning to drive her a little crazy.

She didn’t think it was anything more than a physical attraction, it couldn’t be.

But then she realized that the attractiveness started including things like his protectiveness, his infectious laugh, how caring and patient he was of everyone in the village, including her, who had been so antagonistic towards him. He was also honest and seemed to genuinely want to do the right thing. 

It was also the way that the shade of brown of his eyes changed with whatever mood he was in, his excitement and enthusiasm with the children of the village, and how dedicated he was to making sure his people were ready for the coming winter.

Those were things she couldn’t write off as purely physical. 

There was no way he thought the same of her though; she was probably still a sky girl to him. Even though he’d agreed to let her stay so easily, like he had counted her as one of them the whole time. And even if he did, _possibly_ , find her attractive as well, there was no way he’d do anything about it. There were dozens of other girls in the village that he’d probably be better suited for anyway. Someone that didn’t come with as much baggage as she did. 

When she finally dragged herself out of bed, stepping lightly across the cold floor with a blanket wrapped around her shoulders in search of some food, she stopped in her tracks and just stared at her table.

There were paints of half a dozen colors, charcoal, pencils, and an entire stack of paper sitting on her table with a note that simply said, ‘Welcome home,’ with no signature. But Bellamy was the only one she’d told that she liked to draw. She was surprised that he’d remembered, but in hindsight, she shouldn’t be. 

She could add _thoughtful_ to the list of things about him that made her heart beat a little faster.

She was itching to get to work in the clinic immediately, despite the fact that Harper had told her to take her time jumping back in, but it took all of two seconds to talk herself into spending at least a little bit of time getting lost in the pictures and colors swirling around her head, begging to be put onto paper.

When she wiped at her brow with the back of her hand a few hours later, papers and paint scattered all around her and _on_ her, an easy smile found its way onto her lips. This truly felt like coming home. 

Someone knocked on the door and she stood, wiping her hands off on her pants, even though that really only made a bigger mess. She was sure she looked half crazed, hair wild and paint and charcoal all over her and her table, but oh well.

Octavia stood on her porch dressed in shorts and a tank top, her long hair tamed in a ponytail and two canteens slung at her back. She cocked her head at Clarke, probably confused at why she looked the way she did. 

“Hey, come on in. I was just finishing up, then I was going to head to the clinic,” Clarke told her, beckoning her inside. 

Octavia stepped inside the threshold and peered around Clarke to see the mess that she’d made over the past few hours. “Huh. Didn’t know you were an artist. Where’d all this stuff come from?”

Clarke bit her lip. She knew how it would look if she said Bellamy, especially since she didn’t exactly know for a fact that he was the one to put the stuff in her cabin - which she just then realized he must’ve done while she was still sleeping - and that it just so happened that the drawing on the top of the pile was a picture she’d been working on of him. It was by no means the _only_ thing she’d drawn that morning, but of course it was the one most visible.

But she also didn’t want to lie, so… “Um, your brother I think? I’m not really sure, but he was the only one that I’d mentioned to that I liked to draw and paint. Of course there’s always Monty, I _think_ he might know too?” It started off well, but ended in rambling. 

Octavia looked away from her, and picked up the picture of her brother. “This is _really_ good, Clarke. It looks just like him…” Clarke was hoping she was just imagining the implication that Clarke would’ve had to be staring or thinking of him often enough to have done that well. “It sounds like something my brother would do, getting you all this stuff…”

“So what’re the canteens for?” Clarke asked, changing the subject. Octavia smirked at her, clearly aware of what Clarke was trying to do, but answered her question without any of her own. 

“Oh I was headed over to the sparring circle. Thought I’d drag you with me.”

Apparently she really was serious about her offer to train Clarke.

“Right now? I mean I just got back and I was going to head over to the clinic.”

Octavia shook her head. “Just came from there. Harper said it’s been dead all day. It’ll just be for a couple of hours, I promise. Basic stuff,” she told Clarke. “So any other excuses I can overrule?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at the brunette. “No no, I’ll go,” she acquiesced, knowing there wasn’t any way of getting out of it. And not that she really wanted to; she was excited about training, but against Octavia… Clarke was a little nervous. “Just, I’m going to make a fool out of myself, just to forewarn you.”

“Excellent.”

\------------------------

Octavia was practically hopping all the way there, just on the outskirts of the residential area. Clarke hadn’t been out that way the whole time she’d been in the village before, but there were probably lots of places she’d missed the last time.

She’d probably need an actual tour at some point. 

“So is this a private arena or…?” Clarke trailed off, wondering just how many people might be there to witness her ineptitude. 

“Oh no, lots of people train here, it’s huge. But there's a small area off to the side that I like to use, and there’s not usually many people there. Lincoln said he might show if he could find someone to take him on. Not many can give him a run - ” Octavia informed her, before cutting herself off. “Oh hey he is here!” she exclaimed when she saw her husband and jogged away from Clarke to the clearing through the trees. 

Clarke isn’t even sure how she saw him through the dense tree line. When Clarke finally caught up to her, stepping out of the trees and standing next to her, she looked around to see only a few groups of people engaging in various forms of combat. She followed Octavia’s line of sight to where Lincoln was and caught the glare of sweat reflecting off of the tanned back of who Lincoln had been able to rope in to sparring with him.

She was only mildly annoyed at herself for knowing instantly who that back belonged to.

Octavia waved wildly over to them, catching Lincoln’s eye and allowing Bellamy to get the upper hand, flipping Lincoln over on his back.

“Thanks, O.” Bellamy said cheekily as they approached and could hear Lincoln groan. Both men were shirtless and had clearly been there for a little while if their tensed muscles and the way they were panting for breath were anything to go by. Clarke’s mouth felt a little dry and she tried to resist taking a swig of her canteen already.

“Sorry, Linc,” Octavia winced, going over to him to wrap her arms around him, giving him a big kiss. When they drew back, Lincoln had a smile on his face.

“What’re you two doing here?” Bellamy asked, flicking his eyes over to Clarke. He took a drink out of his own canteen.

“You talked her into it, hmm?” Lincoln asked his wife. 

“Yeah, she wasn’t hard to find, her nose and hands and knees and cheeks were buried in a coat of paint and charcoal back at her cabin,” she told him, trying and failing to be inconspicuous as she glanced between Bellamy and Clarke. 

She could see Bellamy swallow hard and clear his throat a little, focused on his canteen, giving Clarke obvious confirmation of who it was that put those supplies in her cabin. 

“Yeah well, it’d been a long time since I’d been able to do that. Since the Ark, probably. Felt really good,” she said in Bellamy’s direction and she noticed the tip of his ears turning pink. Octavia and Lincoln were still just standing there quietly, though she heard Lincoln murmur something in Octavia’s ear who just smacked him lightly in the chest and shushed him.

“I wonder how those got there,” Clarke said pointedly. 

Bellamy cleared his throat again and finally looked up at her. “Well, I just - I figured you might like - I remembered you said you liked to draw and stuff so I - ” he stammered along, making her smile.

“Thank you,” she told him, saving him of any further explanation. “That was thoughtful.”

He just shrugged, clearly uncomfortable with the praise. 

“Okay, well if you two are done with this weird little dance or flirting or whatever you guys want to call it - ”

“O!” Bellamy said exasperated at the same time Clarke exclaimed, “Octavia!”

Octavia held up both hands. “Hey, I have eyes. _Anyway_ , Clarke and I actually came here to start training, so if you two could skedaddle.”

“We could hang out for a while, help out, or whatever,” Bellamy offered and Clarke just about died at the thought.

“Ohhh no. You two aren’t going to just stand there staring at us. Besides, Clarke will just be distracted and we aren’t going to get anything done.” 

Clarke felt herself go red, but when she went to shove at her for the comment, Octavia grabbed her wrist and twisted her around, flinging her to the ground.

Except, she never actually hit the ground. 

Clarke gasped as she fell but was stopped short of actually connecting with the dirt by Bellamy’s arms. He set her upright and by the time her head stopped spinning, she realized her hands had landed squarely on his bare chest and his hands were resting lightly on her waist. 

“See. That right there. That’s why you can’t be here,” Octavia said authoritatively. “She’s got to learn to block those surprise attacks without having someone there to break her fall.”

“Well maybe if you - ” Bellamy started and Clarke tried to ignore how lightheaded she was getting that she was sure was less from the fall and more due to the rapid heartbeat against her palm. 

Clarke stepped back, trying to clear her overwhelmed senses. “No, she’s right. It’s fine. I can handle it,” she insisted. 

“See?” Octavia gloated.

“I know she can,” Bellamy said confidently and Clarke’s stomach flipped a little at his belief in her. “Fine, we’ll see you guys later.”

“Bye,” Octavia waved at her brother and gave Lincoln a kiss. “See?” she directed at Clarke after they were gone. “I have eyes.”

“Octavia,” Clarke warned, but Octavia just smiled and didn’t say anymore about it.

“Okay. First, you need to plant your feet. You should be ready to pick up and run if you need to, but if you can’t and you’ve got your feet planted, it’ll be harder for your opponent to take you off of them. Got it?”

“Yes, got it. That much I remember from the Ark. They put us through a little training, self-defense and whatnot, but that was mostly to protect us from the prisoners who didn't even really know how to fight anyway. No one up there seriously thought there would be anyone left down here,” Clarke told her. 

Octavia nodded and continued her lesson. “So basics. If someone comes at you from the front, there are three main parts you’re going to want to aim for - ”

“Eyes, throat, and groin, right?”

“Right.” 

Octavia spent the next half hour showing her different scenarios about how an attacker might come at her, and different maneuvers to either get out of there or incapacitate them. After that, they spent a good two hours actually playing the situation out. Clarke could tell Octavia was going as slow and light as she could, even if it was still faster than most trainers would probably go.

Clarke was grateful for it though, since she always learned on her feet pretty well. And it turned out she wasn’t as embarrassing as she thought she’d be. A lot of it was instinct, and when Octavia would throw a curveball at her to prevent Clarke from overthinking the moves, she was surprised how much her muscles remembered already.

Still, it was exhausting and worked muscles she didn’t even realize she had. But she didn’t give up and kept at it, and Octavia seemed to be even having fun teaching her. And Clarke had to admit it was fun getting to learn the techniques as well. She wasn’t sure how effective she would be if she had to actually use them against a real attacker, but she was more equipped than she was when she woke up that morning. 

“Okay, I think that’s it for the day,” Octavia announced, when the sun was dipping lower.

“Tired of me kicking your ass?” Clarke teased. Octavia snorted.

“You did awesome, though, seriously Clarke. I can’t wait to see what you can do when I teach you to go on the offensive,” she said, wiggling her eyebrows.

“Uh huh,” Clarke smiled.

\------------------------

She’d been back just over a week and had spent most of that time in the clinic, getting caught up on what she had missed and giving Harper some time to herself. With Clarke gone, Harper had been handling everything mostly single handedly, with some help from Monty, and Clarke felt bad for leaving her like she had.

A couple days after she returned, she got to have a conversation with Monty, catching him up on what had happened while she was gone. He asked about Jasper and Miller, who she said she hadn’t seen. She told him what Finn had said about them being locked up and they both agreed that they needed to figure out if there was a way to get them out of there. 

Neither felt particularly good about asking Bellamy to help, since he’d be putting his warriors and his people on the line for two people who weren’t even part of Sonchahou. But when they had mentioned their worries to him, Bellamy of course said that he’d put some requests out and see if Finn or Azgeda would be willing to let them leave.

A rescue would be way too dangerous as a first attempt, but he’d mentioned that it would still be an option, if his request and negotiations were denied. He was nervous about the ramifications of that though, Clarke could tell, and she was too, to be honest. Not that they weren’t worth it, but that route would be far more complicated. 

Harper was gone at lunch that day and Clarke had barely decided to ask Harper if she could take the afternoon off because she desperately wanted to feel the sand between her toes again, not having had a chance to visit the ocean since she’d been back yet, when Bellamy threw open the clinic door, a woman in his arms.

And not just any woman, Ankara, the woman who they had expected to have given birth well over a week ago. She and Harper had planned to have a conversation the next day with Ankara about inducing labor. If the baby was too big to fit through the birth canal, then it could prove disastrous for both mom and baby and they didn’t want to wait too long. Harper had only delivered one baby on her own before and there had been no complications. Clarke had assisted in cesarean sections on the Ark, but that wasn’t exactly something they were set up for in the village.

“What happened?” Clarke asked, grateful her hair was already braided back as she noticed Harper storming in after him and prepared the bed for Bellamy to set Ankara down. 

“She passed out. She was visiting her husband at the work site of the spare cabins when she bent over, clutching her stomach in pain. She fell to the ground before we could even get to her,” Bellamy explained, out of breath. 

“Where is her husband now?”

“Right here! It’s nice to meet you, I’m Lee,” A skinnier man declared, rushing in and taking his wife’s hand on one of her sides. 

Clarke smiled and nodded in greeting at him and immediately darted over to the bed, taking a spot at the woman’s feet. “Harper, see if you can hear a heartbeat with the stethoscope to check on the baby while her husband tries to wake her up,” Clarke directed, and then turning to Ankara’s husband, she explained, “If she’s far enough along that she’s going to need to push, she’s going to have to be awake for it.” 

Harper and the man nodded and sprang into action as Clarke began setting Ankara’s feet up on the bed. She didn’t really want to check her progress without her permission, but if she didn’t wake up, Clarke wasn’t going to have much choice. She needed to make sure the baby wasn’t in distress. 

“I tried to get her here as quickly as I could,” Bellamy said, an edge of panic to his voice. Clarke swung her head around to face him.

“You did great, Bellamy. We’ll figure out what’s going on, okay? I’m just glad you were there, you probably saved her life, getting her over here.”

He nodded and backed up, sensing that Clarke needed to not be crowded and wanting to give Ankara as much privacy as possible. He sat at one of the chairs by the bed next to them, out of the way, but still sitting right on the edge, leg bouncing in anxiety.

“Is there anything I can help with?” he asked.

“Not unless you know how to birth a baby,” she said half-joking, not looking at him as she grabbed a blanket from the chest against the wall to cover her with when they were ready to remove her underwear and check on the baby.

When he fell quiet, she glanced quickly at him, primarily to make sure he hadn’t passed out. Men on the Ark were always passing out while their wives gave birth; it used to annoy Clarke to no end.

She should’ve known Bellamy wouldn’t be like those men.

“I delivered Octavia,” he said softly, so quiet that Clarke almost missed it. “And it wasn’t an easy birth.” She did the math quickly in her head, figuring out with a shock that he had to have been only five at the most. She glanced at him again, sensing that whatever had happened that meant he was the one who had to do it probably was not a good memory and he seemed a little lost in it. 

But he couldn’t be her focus right then. She just nodded at him, filing that observation in the back of her head for later.

“Harper!”

“I got a heartbeat, nice and steady. And she’s coming round,” Harper said gently, but firmly, just as Clarke had finished getting prepped. 

Ankara woke with a loud groan and her hand automatically flew to her stomach.

“Here we go,” Clarke told Harper, locking eyes with her friend, both nodding at each other.

***

The memory of the day Octavia came into the world was seared into his brain like a cattle iron, and was currently fighting his mind for attention over the current reality. He watched with awe as Clarke and Harper remained calm, as he remembered that birth was anything but, and treated Ankara steadily, but tenderly.

“Ankara, hey! Look at me, focus on my voice, can you do that?” Clarke asked. Her husband was right next to her, whispering in her ear, and Ankara was awake, but had sealed her eyes shut. At Clarke’s request, they shot open. “Good. Okay. I need to check on you and the baby, okay?”

As soon as she gave Clarke her permission, she flew into action, immediately dipping her gaze below the blankets. 

“Bell, come over here, I need to help Clarke,” Harper requested.

He snapped out of watching Clarke work, and nodded towards Harper, not trusting his voice. 

He stood at Ankara’s side and as a contraction ripped through her, she roared in pain. She shook his offered hand away, so he was left to just stand in support, waiting to see if Clarke or Harper had any further instruction. 

“Okay, Ankara, I see your baby, the head is crowning. Do you feel the urge to push?” Ankara nodded furiously. “Okay, on the next contraction I need you to do a couple pushes for me.” 

She lifted a hand to adjust the blankets as she whispered to Harper and he noticed that Clarke's face fell and she winced, looking more than a little worried. 

His eyes widened at the realization that something might be wrong and as she caught his expression, she shook her head at him, which he took to mean not to mention it out loud. But he could feel his heart pounding at what that could mean.

Harper ran to the counter to gather some supplies and he noticed her pull out red seaweed. 

Ankara started in again with her next contraction. “I’m pushing, is the baby coming?”

Clarke winced. “Um, no, Ankara. I think the baby is stuck, but I can’t leave the baby in there any longer, they’ll need oxygen. I’m getting the baby out on the next contraction, okay? When I say so, I need you to push as hard as you can. I’m not going to lie, it’s going to hurt, but you need to stay as still as possible.”

Bellamy tried not to react, but was probably failing. Next to him, Ankara and her husband were talking softly to one another, Ankara sobbing into his hand. 

“Bellamy, come here,” Clarke demanded. He obeyed instantly. “On her next contraction, I’m going to reach in and pull the baby out. But it’s going to be the most painful thing she’ll ever go through, and will probably try to resist me.”

He saw where this was headed. “I’m going to have to hold her down, aren’t I?”

“I’m sorry, I need Harper with me when the baby comes out, I’m only going to have so much time to resuscitate the baby if they need it, and Harper will need to finish up with Ankara.”

“Okay.”

As Ankara started screaming again, they all moved into position. Things seemed to move into slow motion as he and Clarke locked eyes as she yelled at Ankara to push and he seemed to sense the moment she was going to do what she was going to do and he reached forward to hold Ankara’s body down on the bed at the same time, amazed at the strength that she pushing against him with. They all worked together seamlessly and Harper immediately took Clarke’s spot as Clarke cut the cord and rushed away from the table with a bundle in her arms. 

“Clarke? Why aren't they crying?” Ankara yelled, panicked. 

“They just need a little help,” Clarke called back without looking and just kept doing something to the infant with her back to them. Harper took over, distracting Ankara with what she still needed to help her with. It worked, and she focused on Harper’s voice. The baby still wasn’t crying, so Bellamy moved over to see if he could help Clarke with something. 

He watched her calm, focused, yet clearly concerned, attention on the infant, who was a worrying shade of blue. “Clarke?” he asked quietly. She didn’t even seem to hear him as she worked, trying to clear out the baby girl’s airway, so he didn’t let himself hesitate as he placed his hand softly on her back, just to let her know he was there. 

She picked up the baby and flipped her around to rest her chest on Clarke’s forearm. She patted firmly on the infant's back, and he could hear her whisper “Please, please, please, come on baby girl, you’ve got this,” over and over and over. 

Out of the silence the baby suddenly started roaring and he could feel the muscles in Clarke’s back relax as she flipped the baby over again, quickly wrapping the new baby girl in a blanket. “Shh, shh baby, you’re okay. Let’s go meet your mama, okay?” she asked, pausing for less than a second to look up at him, and he could see how wet her eyes were as they glistened with relief. 

“Hey Mama, here’s your baby girl,” she said as she handed the baby to Ankara, and the baby immediately started rooting around to be fed. “The stubborn, most eventful births are always those strong willed girls,” she joked with the new parents. “So good luck with that,” she added with a smile so genuine that it made Bellamy smile too.

Ankara reached a hand out to grip Clarke’s wrist. “ _Mochof_ , Clarke,” she told her.

“My pleasure,” Clarke said with a nod. She moved closer to Harper. “Everything going okay down here?’

“Yep, she’s good. All done and cleaned up. She just needs a new blanket.”

Bellamy moved quickly to the chest, grabbing the one on top. He cleared his throat and held it out to them, who took it and he turned his back so they could get Ankara settled, heading over to the fireplace to make sure the room stayed warm.

When he turned back towards the room, he took a minute to watch the new family. “ _Spechou_ , Ankara and Lee,” he told them, and they responded with grateful smiles.

Clarke and Harper both moved to the sink at the same time to wash off, but Harper waved her off. “You go back to your cabin. It’s not far and you need to change your clothes too anyway. I’m not nearly as messy as you are. I’ll stay with them until you get back, your cabin isn’t exactly far. You did amazing, Clarke.”

“Uh, thanks,” Clarke said quickly, and Harper must not have noticed the shake in her tone, but Bellamy certainly did. 

“I’ll walk you over.” 

“I don’t need an escort, Bellamy,” she said quietly, but there was something to her tone that made him decide to walk with her anyway.

“I know, but I need some air anyway.”

Clarke nodded and took off, not waiting to see if Bellamy was following. He sat on the steps of her cabin while she changed and washed off, closing his eyes in the sun, trying to soak up whatever small amount of warmth it had left before it would give way to the cold of winter. 

He heard the door open and he turned to face her. She was standing awkwardly in the doorway, cleaned up like nothing had happened. He stood and walked up to her, trying to figure out what exactly she was feeling. Something caught his eye and he looked down to see her fingers fidgeting with her pants, something he’d started to associate with the only nervous habit she would allow to slip past her confident mask. 

Before he could overthink it, he reached out and grabbed the hand, stilling the twitching with his thumb, rubbing circles on the back of her hand. To his surprise, she didn’t pull away, just gripped his hand tighter and squeezed her eyes shut and he allowed her to just be. To just feel whatever it was she needed to feel. He could almost feel his lungs holding his breath, afraid of breaking whatever moment they were in.

Bellamy noticed tears starting to gather in the corners of her closed eyes and just as he was about to reach up with his free arm to wrap around her head, she closed the gap first and collapsed into his chest, and started sobbing. She let go of his hand so she could bury her face in his chest. His heart beat faster at the contact; they had never been like this before. Not even on the beach, it wasn’t even like this when he caught her after Wells died. He wrapped his arms around her, holding her as she cried.

“It’s okay, I’ve got you. Everyone is okay, they’re okay.”

“She - I thought I was going to lose her Bellamy,” she said into his chest, barely audible, but he could feel her lips flutter with the words against his chest through his shirt and he responded by holding her tighter still. 

“I know. But you didn’t. You saved them both, Clarke. They are both alive because of you.”

She nodded, and they stayed like a few minutes more and he ignored the way his arms ached when she finally stepped back, wiping at her face, and chuckling dryly. “Ugh, I’m so sorry. This was… completely inappropriate. Your shirt is all wet now,” she stumbled along, clearly embarrassed.

“Oh, I think it will survive, don’t worry about it,” he told her.

She smiled, but it didn’t reach her eyes. “I need to go check on them.” 

He nodded and let her move past him. But he called out one more time after her. “Clarke? When you’ve got them settled for the night, come find me, okay?”

She looked confused but nodded in acknowledgement.

***

Clarke was tired. It was that kind of tired that she could feel deep in her bones, in her soul. And she wasn’t even the one who’d actually given birth. She felt so relieved that they were both okay, that they were healthy and as far as she could tell, they would stay that way.

But the terror that had coursed through her, the terror that she’d barely been able to keep a lid on while trying to revive that baby girl, it still resonated in the back of her mind, like she couldn’t convince herself the danger had passed. Her skin practically vibrated.

It eased some when she’d had her breakdown, something she’d be eternally embarrassed about. She didn’t want to show that she couldn’t handle those kinds of high pressure situations. It was just that all those emotions she’d beaten back in the heat of the moment rose to the surface all at once and overwhelmed her. She was grateful to him for holding her, for making her feel better and the fact that he’d taken such care of her did not help the attraction that was admitting more than an attraction at this point rising up in her. 

Still, what he must think of her.

She went back to finish her job, stepping into the clinic to see both mom and baby napping, Lee in the chair next to them, watching protectively over them, and Harper was in the opposite corner, stoking the fire, kneeling down on the brick hearth. 

Once they'd gotten them settled in for the evening, the moon high in the sky, they assured Lee that they’d be back periodically to check on them. Clarke meandered her way back to her cabin, wondering if she should indeed go to find Bellamy like he’d requested. 

Her feet seemed to decide for her, as they didn’t stop moving until she was stopped right in front of his cabin. She stepped up to the door, and heard him awake, at least, moving around in there.

She raised her hand to knock, but he opened it before she could. “What are you still doing awake?” she asked.

“What, did you stay up extra late hoping I would be asleep by the time you got around to getting over here or something?”

“No,” she retorted, though that was an idea she should’ve thought of. 

“Uh huh, sure. Okay, let’s go.”

He turned her around with a guiding hand on the small of her back that definitely did _not_ send shivers up her spine and led them down the steps.

“Where’re we going? I’m so tired, Bellamy, I think I just need to go to bed.”

He stopped and let and let an easy, mischievous smile spread across his face. “It’ll be worth it, trust me.”

And she did. She really did. He’d earned that and more over the past couple months of knowing him. While their start had been rough, something had always told her she could trust him. Still, she sighed, shaking her head at him and walking after him anyway. 

Once she realized where he was taking her, she felt her whole body both relax and tense in anticipation all at the same time. She had to force herself to keep a steady place instead of rushing straight for the sandy shore and salty water. 

Once they reached the waves, she tore her boots off, not caring that she had to hop around a bit in her haste and that she probably looked ridiculous. And by the chuckle he tried and failed to stifle, she was probably right in how she looked. 

It was like the water gave her energy, surging power and peace through her veins as soon as her toes touched the water. This time, she didn’t even care a little bit how cold it was or that her clothes were getting wet as she splashed deeper; she just wanted to soak up as much of the comfort that the waves gave her as she could, spreading her arms wide and tipping her head back.

She noticed after a few minutes that Bellamy wasn’t in the waves with her; he was sitting against a rock on a blanket that she didn’t know where he would have gotten. He was giving her space. Allowing her to take what she needed from the waves, because the waves had infinite peace to give and he knew that she needed that after what had happened earlier. 

Before, she would have hated and been terrified of the fact that he’d gotten to know her so well. Now, all she felt was relieved. And safe.

When she could no longer ignore the cold, she ran up the beach to him and the blanket, and was surprised to find another one waiting for her to tuck under. 

She bundled under it, trying to dispel the chill. “Thank you,” she told him, a little breathless. “How did you know that was what I needed?” she asked, genuinely curious as to what his answer would be.

He hummed and furrowed his brows, “I don’t know. I just… whenever I need to calm my mind down, I come down here to the ocean, and after earlier…” He bit his lip like he was trying to stop the words from coming out. “Anyway, I figured that you could use it.”

“I’m… sorry for how I reacted earlier. I was being weak and let my emotions overwhelm me. I shouldn’t have - ” she tried, but he cut her off.

“You think you were being weak?” he asked, sounding incredulous. “Clarke, that was _not_ weak. _You_ are not weak. After all you’ve been through, I think you’re one of the strongest people I’ve ever known. You kept that entire room from freaking out when Ankara’s baby was stuck,” he pointed out and she avoided his eyes. “And…” he hesitated, running a hand through his curls and it occurred to her that she had noticed that it was a nervous tick of his, that he did that when he was about to open himself up in a way he wasn’t sure if he should.

Maybe she knew him well enough to read him too. 

“And I like that you showed that emotion to me. That you dropped your guard with me,” he said softly, staring out at the ocean determinedly. She shot her eyes to his face, trying to find any kind indication that he was only saying that to make her feel better, but there was nothing. It was like he honestly thought that, and her breath hitched. 

Because, if she was digging deep and being completely honest with herself, her embarrassment came from what _he_ would think of her. She _did_ let her guard down with him. And he’d held her and made her feel safe and cared for and it scared the shit out of her how much she craved that kind of touch. 

She knocked her shoulder against his, and settled for leaning slightly against him, letting herself tip her head down so it rested lightly on his shoulder. She smiled to herself when he shifted slightly closer to her. “Okay then. Maybe I should do that more often.”

“Be honest with what you’re feeling? What a weird idea,” he joked, side-eyeing her a little. 

She smiled and laughed a little, staring off with him. It was a couple minutes later when she noticed something in the distance, something she had missed the last time she’d been on the beach. She thought she was imagining it at first, but then a light flickered and she sat up straight, squinting in the darkness.

“What is that?” she asked. “Is that… a lighthouse?”

She looked back at him and his lips had quirked up to one side in a small smirk. “It is. What did you think Sonchahou meant?”

“Lighthouse… that’s so cool. What, or who, is inside?”

He ran a hand through his hair again and lifted his head a little. “Uh, my mother actually lives there. She’s our Lighthouse Keeper. Her job is to keep communication open between Luna’s village and our’s, as well as keep an eye out for anything we need to know about in the distance.”

“Your… mother?” she asked, a little confused. Off his questioningly look, she added. “It’s just… I - was she at the bonfire? No one mentioned she lived out here.”

“No, she wasn’t there,” he told her, a little sadness in his tone. “She avoids the large gatherings. She prefers her space. I try to go see her once a week or once every couple weeks if it’s been busy, and Murphy and Octavia visit her as well.”

“Murphy?” 

“Yeah, how much has he told you about his childhood?”

“Not much, just the snide reference here and there.”

“Well it’s not really my story to tell, so you’ll have to ask him, but basically Aurora is like a mother to him as well.”

“Hmm. She sounds kind, and strong,” Clarke mused. Because she did. If she raised such children like Bellamy, Octavia, and Murphy, she’d have to be. 

“Oh she is…” he chuckled a little before looking at her in that way he did when he was trying to figure out if he should say what he was thinking. “Would you like to meet her one day?”

Clarke felt her eyes widen and something flutter around in her stomach. “To meet the person who raised you, Octavia, and Murphy? Yeah, I would.”

“Okay then. I’ll take you with me the next time I go,” he told her. “Unless, you’d prefer to go with O, of course.”

“No, I think I can stand you long enough to go with you,” she teased and he gave her a small smile in response. 

They sat like that for Clarke didn’t really realize how long, but she did feel her eyes droop and her head tilt down until it rested on his shoulder again and while part of her expected him to wake her up, she found herself relieved that he just shifted even closer so she could rest more comfortably. 

The next thing she was aware of was being lowered into her familiar bed of pelts and fingertips lightly brushing the hair off her face.

\------------------------

When she woke a few hours later, her internal clock telling her to go check on Ankara and the baby, she was almost too warm; her blankets had been piled high on top of her. She couldn’t help but smile into them, and was pleasantly surprised to find one of the blankets that she was wrapped in was the one she’d been tucked under on the beach.

She wasn’t sure how much longer she was going to be able to push the feelings that were swirling around inside her from fighting their way to the surface. 

After she had done her routine checks, she burrowed herself back under the blankets and let herself sleep in until later than she normally would. Harper had the next shift to check on the new little family and if that meant skipping breakfast, that’d be fine.

When she finally emerged from her cabin, she made her way to the lunch hall, and the moment she stepped inside, something had changed, the mood was not the usual light laughter and banter she was used to. 

A quick scan around revealed to her why; there were Azgeda warriors sitting in the back corner, and they were staring straight at her. 

“Don’t let them scare you,” a voice sounded from behind her. Murphy. “Hey, sleeping _skaigada_.”

“I’m not a sky girl anymore, remember? You really need to find something different to call me. Or you know, just call me _Clarke_ ,” she told him. 

“Right, but you still came from the sky, so it works until I figure out something else.”

“You just can’t admit to ever being wrong, can you?” she mocked, both of them heading for the kitchen to get a serving of lunch.

“Well, I would, if I ever was, but it hasn’t happened yet, so…” he shrugged in mock humility.

Clarke just shook her head and followed him as he joined Octavia at the table. 

“Well look who’s finally awake,” she said, raising an eyebrow. “You and my brother had a late night,” she commented with a smirk and Clarke froze as Murphy spit out his drink all over his plate.

“You… and Bellamy?” he asked, eyes wide. 

“No,” she insisted. “No. Just… no. Well, yes, we were together, but he had just taken me to the beach because of all that happened yesterday and… no,” she stammered, swallowing heavily.

“That was fast,” Murphy commented and Clarke threw a roll at him.

“No,” she said again, pointing a finger at him with one hand while throwing her roll at him with the other. “We - shut up Murphy,” she sighed as he started cackling. 

“Well, either way, he’s in a shit mood today, so I’d steer clear if you can. Azgeda always ruins everything,” Octavia piped in.

“No arguments here, I was kidnapped by them, remember?”

Octavia winced a little, and Clarke got the inkling she still felt bad at how Clarke had come to Sonchahou originally, even though it was not her fault at all.

Bellamy and Harper walked in then, and Clarke had a flash of fear when she saw Monty wasn’t with them. Octavia wasn’t wrong, Bellamy had a scowl on his face that she hadn’t seen since they’d first met. It looked so out of place on his expression now; she’d gotten used to the kind features that he’d had recently.

“I can’t stand them there. The whole room is colder,” Harper sneered as she sat next to Clarke. They all looked at Harper with confused looks on their faces. “What?” she asked, a carrot frozen halfway to her mouth when she noticed their expressions.

“Who are you and what have you done with Harper kom Floukru?” Murphy asked.

“Oh stop, I’m allowed to dislike someone,” she said rolling her eyes.

“You never have before.”

“Yes, well, things change,” she shrugged.

“Oh, you mean Monty,” Octavia asked, wiggling her eyebrows and Clarke was just glad they weren’t teasing her about Bellamy anymore, because that had been close to a disaster. 

Bellamy stomped over to the table at which Azgeda was sitting, standing tall, arms folded, head high. This was protective Bellamy, leader Bellamy. The one who was wary of people who didn’t belong, who threatened his people. It was the stance she’d seen him take when she first met him. Before, it had pissed her off and she couldn’t help but antagonize him. Now, it made her feel safe, knowing he was in charge, watching out for all of them.

She wasn’t a damsel or someone who needed saving, that hadn’t changed. But sometimes, it was nice to not feel so alone, to feel cared for and to know that someone had her back. It had only been Wells for so long and now she had more people than she could count in that role.

“Yeah, Bellamy came to see us this morning - ” Harper was answering Octavia.

“ - because he spent the night in your cabin last night,” Murphy apparently felt the need to add. 

Harper flung a carrot at him and continued, “Anyway, he thought it might be better if Monty stayed out of sight for the few days they’re here. Just in case they realize he’s from the Skaikru village.”

“What happens if they do?” Clarke asked. Octavia looked nervous too, but Harper looked undeterred.

“He said that he’d fight for him. Monty wasn’t part of any deal and should have free will to go where he likes.”

Clarke should’ve known that Bellamy wouldn’t let him go without a fight. He was that kind of leader. It was the argument he was planning on using to get Finn to release Jasper and Miller too.

Bellamy threw his hands up to something that the Azgeda woman said and shook his head. Now that Clarke was looking in their direction, she noticed there were three of them. One woman, the one he was clearly annoyed with and was also looking at Bellamy like he was her next meal, and two men, one who looked bored with everything, but clearly held himself in high regard, and the last, who was looking around, with a smarmy look on his face. His head was half shaven, and while he had a smile on his expression, it looked less friendly and more possessive.

When he turned and caught Clarke’s gaze watching him, his smile grew and he tipped his head at her in a way that sent chills up Clarke's spine. 

Bellamy noticed him staring and turned to see what had put that look on his face, and when he noticed that it was Clarke, he shifted in such a way that put him in between the two of them so the man couldn’t leer at her anymore. She was sure it had been on purpose, and she was grateful. 

He finally joined them at the table, setting his tray down harder than he normally would, scowl still on his face as he aggressively started eating. 

Murphy was the first to break the silence. “So how’s Echo doing?” 

Octavia smacked him the back of the head before Bellamy could punch him. Because it seemed to Clarke, with the look that he gave Murphy, that was definitely what he wanted to do.

“She’s fine. They’re all fine. Leaving in a couple days,” he told them in short, clipped sentences.

“So at the risk of getting a smack from Octavia, who are they?” Clarke ventured.

Bellamy sighed like it was taking great effort to even think about them. “The woman is Echo, the man next to her is Roan, Ontari’s brother, and the other guy… his name is McCreary. I don’t know him as well. He doesn’t usually come with them.”

“Echo and Roan are the usual delegates Ontari sends. Echo is one of her warriors and Roan is an ambassador.”

“And Echo…” Murphy started before getting a glare from both Blake siblings. Clarke made a mental note to not ever be on the receiving end of that if she could help it. She wasn’t scared of much, but that did not look fun. “Well, let’s just say Echo has a thing for our Bellamy.”

“Oh, is that right?” Clarke asked, risking the glare anyway. Bellamy mumbled something in his food that she didn’t catch. “She’s very pretty. Gorgeous, actually,” she added, furrowing her brows a little. It started as a way to tease Bellamy, but a pang ran through her chest that closely resembled jealousy and she wasn’t really sure what to do with it.

“They had a thing, sort of,” Octavia finally said.

The pang shot through her again, but she tried to keep her face neutral. “Oh?” Clarke asked, trying to sound casual, but even she admitted it came out a little too high. 

He looked up at her finally and her heart skipped a beat, but she couldn’t figure out why. “I ended it. It was only a quick thing anyway. It wasn’t… she broke Octavia’s arm in a skirmish once and smiled. She fucking _smiled_ like she was glad she did it, and anyone that takes that much pleasure in violence… I just… anyway. It’s over,” he explained quickly and harshly, and it might be her imagination but he sounded a bit like he was trying to reassure her, she didn’t dare wonder at the reason why he would feel the need to do that.

\------------------------

Clarke found out they were staying in one of the guest cabins they had available for other clans or ambassadors when they came to visit. She tried not to have much interaction with them, considering they were on Ontari’s side in all of this. Still, it was hard not to run into them occasionally, especially at meal times. They’d been there just over two days and the village had become quieter, more reserved.

And she felt like she was constantly on edge.

She was so on edge that she decided that her imagination was definitely running away with her when she kept conveniently running into Bellamy multiple times, even though he was supposed to be in meetings most of the time with the delegates. A member of Trikru had also come to ask for assistance in restoring a building of theirs that had burned down the week prior.

The clinic had been busy that day and she was looking forward to starting a fire in her own cabin once she finally finished putting all the stuff they’d needed away. Ankara and the baby had been discharged that morning, the baby had already put on weight with the heartily way she was eating. 

Monty had come to visit them about an hour ago and Clarke told Harper she should just go; the sun was just about finished setting and all that was left was the clean up and she didn’t really need help for that. Harper giggly asked if she was sure before letting Monty lead her out of there.

Clarke was so thrilled for the both of them; they seemed beyond happy. 

She had just finished putting the last of the wraps away, and made sure the fire was completely out when she stepped outside. The air was crisp and a little chilly with the sun setting earlier than usual, fall was definitely here. _Fotam_ she learned the season was called in Trig. 

Clarke, Bellamy and Harper had started a conversation earlier about what to expect for winter on the ground, and Clarke would be lying if she said she wasn’t a little nervous. She’d dealt with illnesses on the Ark of course, but they didn’t exactly have medication on the ground like they did up in space and she needed to be brought up to speed on which worked best and then input some of her own knowledge. She’d even started a picture book of the different herbs and plants and their purposes. Monty had been especially helpful with that, since he was from Farm Station. 

They’d had a woman in earlier already with a cough and runny nose and Harper was concerned that flu season might be starting early. Clarke started teaching Harper and Bellamy to do CPR, like she had done on Monty at the gates (she’d previously given Harper had a crash course in it already so she caught on quickly). They were both amazed that there was even a way to get a pulse back, and she hadn’t missed the guilt in Bellamy’s eyes when she finished. She knew he was probably unnecessarily blaming himself for not knowing this already. 

Once Clarke closed the door to the clinic behind her, she breathed deep, letting the cool air clear her lungs as she listened to whoever was still up in the village some distance away. She remembered what Octavia had said about the previous healer wanting privacy and she had definitely had that. The clinic and her cabin were a little distance away from the center of the village, and the only immediate sounds around her were the bugs and various nocturnal animals waking up. 

Clarke was walking up to her door, hand on the knob, when she heard it. Just a slight displacement of the gravel on the path, not particularly loud, but also not in tune with the sounds of the village or forest. The hair stood up on her forearms in attention when she heard it again, a little closer. She was about to turn around when an unfamiliar voice spoke up.

“ _Sop skaigada._ ”

Her free hand instinctively went for the knife around her waist as she tried desperately to remember the few things that Octavia had managed to teach her over the last week. It wasn’t much, the clinic had been keeping Clarke pretty busy, but it wasn’t nothing either. 

Because although she’d never met him, she knew exactly who it was standing behind her without needing to turn around. 

“Or do you not speak Trigedaleng yet?” he said with a condescending tone, and Clarke noted that his voice was getting closer.

“Or maybe I don’t want to have conversations with kidnappers?” she asked, finally turning around to face McCreary. “What do you want, McCreary?” She tried to imbue as much disgust and disinterest into her voice as possible, making it clear he was not wanted there.

He smiled at her and it made goosebumps form on her skin and she tried not to shiver. There was no option to show weakness here. She couldn’t slip up. As badly as the urge was to run or look to see if she could flag anybody down, she knew she couldn’t look away from him. She may not have Octavia’s skills, but she’s never been helpless.

“Well, I just thought I’d get to meet our investment - ” he began and Clarke resisted the urge to throw up. “ - but it seems Bellamy has been keeping you busy and away from us. And I can see why,” he insinuated, not even trying to hide his scan of her body. She wanted to hide, protect herself from his slimy gaze, but she wouldn’t give him the satisfaction. 

“Maybe I’m just busy with things that have nothing to do with your awful clan or your megalomaniac Heda.” It was probably too far and not the best of ideas to antagonize him, but her hatred ran deep. 

“I have no idea what that means.”

Clarke snorted. “I have no interest in any of you. Leave, now.”

“Aw, that’s not very nice, is it? We got you out of that horrible mess of a leader. Finn really is a piece of work, isn’t he? I’d say I have no idea what Ontari sees in that ridiculous alliance, but then, it never really was about that, was it?”

“I don’t really care about the fucking alliance. And it’s been a long day, so if you don’t mind,” she told him, nodding down the path and in doing so noted that there was absolutely no one anywhere near there.

“I don’t mind,” he said, stepping closer, clearly not taking the hint. 

“Get the fuck away from me, McCreary, now,” she said low, and tried to put as much vitriol in it as possible. 

“So ungrateful.”

He was walking up the steps and her body took a step back involuntarily. She knew where this was headed and her internal alarms were screaming at her to get out of there. 

“You need - ”

“You have no idea what I _need_ , sky girl. But you will.” He pushed her back against the door, pushing it inwards and she stumbled backwards at the force and fell to the ground. He loomed over her and gripped her wrist with so much strength that she was sure it was going to leave a bruise and yanked her to her feet. “So pretty,” he said, running his other hand down her face, putting his face so close to hers that she could smell his rancid breath. “Don’t you wish Ontari had given you to me instead? We’d have _so much more_ fun together than you probably have with him.”

She used her free hand to break his nose with the heel of her hand, and then reached down as fast as she could to the knife at her belt and managed to cut his abdomen before he knocked it out of her hands and swung her around so her back slammed against the wall next to the fireplace, his nose pouring out blood. One of his hands was on her throat, and the other was at her waist, ripping the hem of her shirt and she wasn’t sure where his knife came from, but the sting as it ran shallowly up her side definitely contributed to her blurry vision 

She clawed at his arm, trying to get him to release her, but he didn’t seem to care about the blood that was leaking from the scratches or his wounds. She also noticed a deep scratch on his throat that she hadn’t remembered giving him, but it wasn’t bleeding, so he must have had it when he’d gotten there.

“ _Noumou_! What the _fuck_ do you think you’re doing, you ungrateful _branwoda_?” he asked, slamming her head against the wall again, making her see spots, and all of the slithery tone that he tried to talk to her with before had vanished, giving way to fury and something so sinister that Clarke was legitimately scared.

Something slammed in the distance towards the clinic, and he turned his gaze ever so briefly, but it was enough to give Clarke a window. She brought her knee up as hard as she could, missing her target, but she got him where she’d slashed him in his stomach, and her other hand came up to scratch at the spot on his neck, digging her nails into it, reopening it. 

He dropped her from the wall, and she scrambled up and lunged for the door. She had just reached the knob and wretched it open, trying to shout, but his hold on her neck must’ve bruised her vocal cords or something because all that came out was some hoarse sounds. 

She felt a hand grip her ankle and pull hard, and she lost her footing and fell hard to the floor, her head slamming into the knob on the way down. By time she’d reached the ground, she was having a hard time focusing her vision and still, she tried to fight.

She really did. 

She tried to remain conscious the best she could, but the fight was slowly ebbing out of her. Even as her vision went dark she kicked out at him, knowing that she was connecting with _something_ but her head hurt and she was pretty sure she was bleeding, if the sticky floor beneath her was any indication. 

One of her last fleeting thoughts was of Bellamy, not surprising her anymore that her mind would conjure him up, and she knew that somehow, someway, he’d find her. What _did_ surprise her was how sure she was of that. 

She heard shouting - _maybe her name?_ \- just as she passed out, and she prayed to whoever was listening that they were from here, from Sonchahou, her home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **Warning** : Assault and it's implied that it's heading in a sexual direction, but it's not graphic in that way, as it doesn't get that far.
> 
> End of Chapter notes:
> 
> I'm so sorry for the cliffhanger! This chapter was SO long and SO packed already. I won't make you wait too long for the resolution, hopefully I'll have it up by Thursday night. But I hope you enjoyed the rest of it! Octavia/Clarke friendship and Bellarke scenes are incredibly fun to write and I wanted to make sure to have some levity in there to balance out the darkness.
> 
> Also, grounderkingbellamy on tumblr created an amazing moodboard for this story! Check it out [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488)! 
> 
> Hopefully you're still invested in this crazy story and I'll see you soon!  
> ❤


	12. Chapter 12

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we are! I tried to get it out a little earlier, but yeah, kids. 
> 
> Anyway, I just want to say that I sincerely appreciate all the outpouring of love and support over the last chapter and this fic in general. I've said it before, but it is and will continue to be quite the roller coaster and it isn't any where near over yet so I'm so thankful that there are people willing to stick it out and are loving it. I love you all and you all inspire me to no end!
> 
> I'm going to go ahead and change the rating, just because of the content of the last chapter and where we'll be headed eventually anyway. I'm also adding tags up top just to update it a little. This chapter deals with the continuation of where we left off, so I don't feel like I need to necessarily add another warning, but I wanted to give you a little reminder.

**_6 hours ago_ **

Bellamy tried so hard. He really did. 

He tried to stay busy, and not be too overbearing and protective of Clarke while Azgeda was in the village, but he was beginning to feel a bit like a magnet, being drawn towards her, making sure she was alright. He kept finding excuses to run into her over the past couple days and by the way she’d looked at him the last time, she was beginning to suspect that it was on purpose. 

He’d also been trying to keep Echo, Roan, and McCreary occupied as well. He gave them whatever information they requested, even offered to have food delivered to their cabin so they wouldn’t have to go far, but they insisted on wandering around the village, claiming Ontari wanted a full report on how the village was doing.

Ontari couldn’t give a flying _fuck_ about Sonchahou. She wanted to make it clear she was in control, not him, and every time one of them (mainly McCreary) flaunted it in his face he wanted to punch them, almost not caring if it would start a fucking war or not.

He was itching for the moment they’d leave. His self-control could only take so much. 

He’d asked Lincoln to keep a special eye on McCreary. He’d never met the man, but the alarm bells went off like the foghorn in his head whenever he was around, and he trusted Lincoln to do it discreetly. 

It didn’t help matters that the man couldn’t seem to _shut the hell up_ about Clarke. 

McCreary asked way too many questions about her that Bellamy knew wasn’t just for Ontari’s information, but finally Roan got sick of them as well. But when he suggested he just go _ask Clarke_ his questions, Bellamy stopped him immediately. Which was apparently the worst thing he could have done, because McCreary’s eyebrows shot up and he actually started laughing. 

“You really think that’s okay, ocean boy?” he taunted. 

“What the hell are you laughing for?”

“You and the sky girl. You think Heda will be okay with you jeopardizing the alliance so you can get laid?” 

The muscles in his back rippled with tension. “You better back off McCreary, I’m not interested in getting my hands bloody today,” he told the man through gritted teeth.

“You can’t touch me.”

Bellamy closed his eyes, willing all of his strength to control the anger rolling through his body.

“She any good at least?” he continued, staggering around the room. “I hear they are only allowed one child in space, so you _know_ they’ve got some kind of good birth control. I’m sure that comes in handy.”

And that was it.

Bellamy strode forward in two large strides and shoved McCreary up against the wall, pinning him there and Roan and Murphy jumped up instantly.

“You better shut your mouth, _skwila_ , before I shut it for you.” He figured that calling the man on being the pig he was was the least he deserved. He was still trying to keep himself under control, but he was losing that battle quickly as McCreary laughed in his face, not intimidated in the least.

“He’s not worth it Bellamy,” Murphy tried to talk him down, but he could tell Murphy was trying to keep it together as much as he was, his fists at the ready at his sides.

Bellamy spit to his side. “Oh I don’t know, I think he might be worth getting a little blood on my walls,” he disagreed. Then to McCreary he stretched to his full height and loomed over the man. McCreary was tall, but Bellamy was more imposing. “Let me be _very_ clear about something McCreary. Ontari may be the leader of the coalition, but _I_ am the leader of this village and you are a _guest_ in my village. You _will_ show my people the respect they deserve, including Clarke, or I will deal with you however I see fit. You are not untouchable.” Bellamy released him and tried to shake off the encounter, done with entertaining this idiot’s insinuations. All he wanted was to pound this guy into the sand for his comments, but that was also giving in to exactly what he wanted Bellamy to do.

He could feel McCreary glaring at him. “Untouchable? Hmm, I suppose it depends on who does the touching though… like a certain blonde,” he taunted. Bellamy knew he was trying to goad him into a fight, and that he shouldn’t take the bait, but it was like his body acted on pure instinct. 

He lunged for the man, managing to rip a gash in his fucking neck before Roan pulled him back, shoving at him until he was sure Bellamy wasn’t going to go after him again. Which was probably not a great idea on Roan’s part, Bellamy’s arms were already itching to punch him unconscious. 

“What the fuck is wrong with you, _asol_?” McCreary roared, calling him an asshole as if Bellamy was the one out of line and he almost rushed at him again.

Murphy was standing next to him, arms folded. “Oh let him at him, Roan. He deserves it. I might take a chunk out of this piece of shit myself,” he threatened.

“We can’t get into this, guys. McCreary,” Roan turned to his companion, more anger than he’d ever seen from him before. Usually, nothing really got to Roan and he acted bored for most of his visits. “Get the fuck out of here before I finish what Bellamy started you prick,” Roan told him. McCreary left with a bang of the door of the meeting hall they were in, clutching his neck and spitting insults the whole way. “Sorry, man, I can’t stand that guy. I begged my sister not to send him, but - ”

“You better keep that fucker under control, Roan, I mean it,” Bellamy demanded, his jaw clenched so hard that he was surprised he didn’t chip a tooth.

Roan nodded, and left after McCreary. “I’ll get Echo to keep an eye on him too.”

Bellamy slammed a chair against the wall, breaking one of the legs. “ _Fuck!_ ”

“I should’ve let you break McCreary’s face instead of our furniture,” Murphy mused.

“Yeah, you should’ve,” he snarked, collapsing into another chair.

“He leaves in the morning okay? There’s not much trouble he can get into from now until then.”

Murphy was trying to convince himself, as much as Bellamy, but something about the whole situation still didn’t sit right with him.

\------------------------

He knew he couldn’t keep Clarke away from them forever. They’d seen her, so they knew she was still there, and for the most part, he’d managed to convince them to leave her be and let her do the job she was given to them to do, and thankfully they’d accepted that. But they would still need to talk to her before they left.

She was a warrior, a fighter, a beautiful hurricane of strength and determination and he knew she didn’t need his protection, that she could handle herself. That if she needed help, she’d ask for it, but there was a part of him that couldn’t help but feel like…

Well, there were a lot of feelings and thoughts towards Clarke he wasn’t able to help having these days.

Like how her smile spread ear to ear when she laughed too loud and took things so seriously sometimes it seemed she’d have a permanent crease between her brows, but also how she made him and the rest of them smile when she knew they needed it. She was also infinitely kind, and thoughtful, and worked harder than almost any of them. He knew the exact shade of blue her eyes would be when she was excited and the way she fidgeted her fingers against her leg when she was anxious. Her smile lit up wherever she was, like the sun was lending her some it’s shine. 

He wasn’t sure when the switch had flipped, it felt more like it had snuck up on him than a conscious choice he’d made. The increase in the time they were spending together now that she was back was the part of his days and weeks that he looked forward to the most. He just wanted to be around her. 

He wanted to make her laugh that made her smile spread ear to ear, and smooth out the wrinkles in her forehead, or calm her shaky hand with his steady one. Or even just splash with her in the ocean when they both needed a time out from the world. 

He was in love with her. There wasn’t much left to deny in that regard anymore. 

He hadn’t even realized the sun had set by the time he was finished with some maps and plans about his trade agreement with Trikru that he’d been working with Indra on over the last couple days when Lincoln walked in.

“ _Heya_. All three are in their cabin now, and should be out for the night. You want me to keep watch?”

“Okay, thanks, Linc. No, I think it’s fine for the night, I’ll make a round in a little while, make sure they're sleeping before I head in.”

He was pretty sure he’d scared McCreary off. Even he didn’t seem like enough of an idiot to try something after that. And Roan said they’d watch and keep him under control as well and while he didn’t exactly _trust_ Roan with most things, he knew he could trust the man wouldn’t just let McCreary do whatever he wanted. Especially with how angry Roan was about it earlier. 

He spent another hour pouring over the data and inventory, making sure they were set to send out a few of their carpenters in two days, until his eyes were too heavy to keep open any longer. 

The guest cabins were next to the meeting hall he was in, so he stopped there like he told Lincoln he would. Bellamy tried to listen to the sounds of the three of them. He heard Echo’s breathy snores, something he was already regretfully familiar with, and Roan talking in his sleep, but that was it. He couldn’t hear anything else, and while it was entirely possible that McCreary just didn’t make any noise, the pit in his stomach told him to double check.

He creaked the door open and peered around the darkness, thankful that there was a fire that had at least some embers left to cast enough of a glow in the room for him to see there were only two sleeping figures and an empty bed.

He slammed the door shut, waking both Roan and Echo.

“What the fuck, Bellamy?” Echo asked.

“Where is McCreary?” he demanded.

“Fuck if I know, taking a leak?”

“Fuck, Roan, I told you to keep an eye on him!” he exclaimed, storming out and down the path.

“I was _sleeping_ you idiot, I’m not going to do watch shifts on my own people.”

“I want all of you gone, tonight. I’m done with this. Tell Ontari I don’t want any more check ins or reports or whatever fuck nonsense she sent you here for,” he spit at Roan, stomping down the path. 

Murphy poked his head out of his cabin as they passed.

“What’s a guy got to do to get some fucking sleep around here?” he said, yawning and rubbing his eyes.

“McCreary is missing, Murph, I don’t have time for this.”

Murphy’s face went cold and his boots were on in an instant, jogging to catch up with Roan and Bellamy. “I’ll check the beach, you check the clinic, then her place.”

He nodded in agreement, not trusting what his voice would sound like anymore. He was on the verge of panicking, for no real reason other than an asshole who was taunting him about Clarke earlier was nowhere to be found. He didn’t care if she thought he was being overprotective or whatever, he just needed to check. He needed to be sure. 

There was that magnet pull again, like he could physically _feel_ her. Which was a little ridiculous, but he let himself feel it anyway and guide him.

He ran up the path to the clinic, which was empty, but the fireplace was still warm, so she must’ve just left. He slammed the door closed behind him, Roan still trailing behind him, and started making his way to her cabin. He cursed the fact that she lived all the way out here; it was so isolated. 

He stopped dead in his tracks when he heard it. 

Nothing more than a strangled scratch of a voice, but it was there, he was sure of it. And his heart dropped to the ground. 

He ran as fast as he could the rest of the way. 

“Clarke!” 

The first thing he saw was blonde hair on the floor, just inside the cabin, splayed out around her face. Then he saw McCreary crouching over her, hooking an arm under her neck to lift her up.

He didn’t bother slowing down, just charged McCreary as hard as he could, knocking the man halfway across the room. He advanced on him, hand reared back to pummel him, when Roan’s voice cut through the rage.

“Shit, Bellamy, she’s bleeding!”

He stopped mid swing and rushed over to Clarke. Roan switched him places, and held McCreary down. 

“What the hell, man? I was just making sure she was okay! We were talking and she tripped, hit her head on the door knob. Clumsy as fuck, I tell you. Then she kicked at me, and attacked me and I’m hurt too, man.”

“Roan, you better shut him the fuck up,” he practically growled, as he lifted Clarke’s head gently into his lap. His hand came away from her head covered in blood.

He started shaking when he saw the hand shaped bruises blooming up around Clarke’s neck when he went to check on a pulse and he really should’ve just killed the man. Her pulse was there, barely, light and fluttery and he was suddenly very worried about the shade of red matting her blonde waves.

Murphy skidded to stop in front of them, just as Bellamy was lifting her into his arms, eyes wild in panic. “Shit, Bell. Is she - ”

“Go get Harper! Now!” he barked and Murphy took off and was halfway to Harper’s cabin before he was barely down Clarke’s steps. It was rare he ever saw Murphy move that fast. He was quick, but usually saved his speed for emergencies, which he supposed this was.

He cradled her head, supporting it the best he could as he ran to the clinic. She started groaning about halfway there, still mostly unconscious, but at least she was alive.

“Shh, it’s okay, I’m here. I’ve got you, I’m here. I’m not going to let you go, you’re going to be okay, you _have_ to be okay, _please_ be okay,” he pleaded.

He kicked in the clinic door and laid her down on the closest bed. Harper and Murphy burst in a minute later.

“Monty went to get O and Lincoln. What the hell happened?” Harper demanded. When she approached the bed and saw the bruises around Clarke’s neck, the scratch on her cheek, and the torn shirt he hadn’t noticed before but now that he had he felt sick to his stomach, Harper looked up at him. “Bellamy…” she trailed off, voice breaking.

“I think… McCreary attacked her,” he told her, barely able to say the words out loud. He was terrified.

Murphy kicked a chair behind them and Harper leapt into action.

“We need to stop this bleeding, Bellamy grab a towel and put pressure on the wound while I inspect the rest of her for other injuries.” she ordered. 

Bellamy did as he was told, grabbing one out of the cabinet they kept them in and cradled her head with one hand while pressing firmly against her injury. Harper started at her neck and worked her way down, pressing firmly on spots to make sure she wasn’t missing anything. Her brows furrowed for a moment, and paused at her abdomen and lifted her tattered shirt just to her ribs, and Bellamy saw another bruise and a long thin cut up her side.

If it didn’t mean he’d have to leave Clarke, which there was no chance of that happening, he wasn’t entirely sure he wouldn’t head back to wherever Roan had McCreary.

“I don’t think any of them are broken, just bruised. Along with her left wrist and neck,” Harper mumbled, probably to herself, but he was hyper aware of every word she said as he shifted to apply more pressure to the wound on her head.

Monty, O, and Lincoln rushed into the clinic then, eyes wide as they took the scene in. Octavia walked to his side, and put a hand on his shoulder but he shook it off.

“Oh Bellamy…”

“I’m fine, O. She’s fine. She’s going to be fine. Right, Harp?”

Harper didn’t even bother sparing him a glance, just nodded her head to acknowledge she’d heard him. 

Monty approached him on his other side, and when Bellamy glanced up at him, he saw that his eyes were wet, but determined. “Bellamy, let me take over.” 

“I’m fine right where I am.”

“Bell, he wasn’t asking.” Harper told him, gently but direct and leaving no room for argument. 

He wanted to be mad at them, wanted to fight with them more, but the truth was, the adrenaline he’d felt after finding her was starting to fade and his hands were starting to shake. He needed to sit down if he was going to avoid passing out too, and he wanted all their focus to be on Clarke, and not him, so that wouldn’t exactly help.

He nodded, and shifted to the side, keeping his hands in place on her head until Monty was in position with a fresh towel. When he pulled his hand and the towel he had been using away, it was covered in her blood, as was his shirt from holding her and the sight of how much there made him swallow hard. 

“Wash your hands, Bell, then you can sit down next to her,” Harper directed, still not even bothering to look at him as she cleaned Clarke’s cut on her side..

He nodded and went to the sink, hesitating to turn his back to her, in case something happened. He washed hastily, missing some spots but not really caring, and took only two long strides before he was sitting next to her, picking up her left hand, being careful to avoid the hand shaped bruise wrapped around her wrist. 

It was soft, but cold, but before he could speak up about it, Harper beat him to it. “She lost a lot of blood, so most of her blood supply is directed at her core. Her hands and feet will be pretty cold until her body can replenish her supply.” 

“What if she lost too much?” he asked shakily.

Harper hesitated before answering, fingers stuttering in their ministrations for a moment. “I don’t - I don’t think she did. There’s a - a lot, but… she’ll be okay. If we can get that bleeding under control - ”

“We’re getting there,” Monty confirmed, his eyes silently releasing tears.

“Then she should pull through,” Harper finished. “I still need to inspect that one, but her side here only needs a few stitches, despite how long of a cut it is. It’s mostly shallow.”

He nodded, like he understood all of what she said, and added his other hand to her hand so he could surround, trying to will his warmth into her. He noticed blood caked under her nails and across her hand and he was suddenly worried Harper had missed something bleeding elsewhere. 

She must have seen his worry because she told him softly, “It’s not hers,” nodding to the blood. “Obviously I can’t be a hundred percent sure, but I think she probably did some damage to him of her own. She put up a fight.”

“Of course she did,” he said breathlessly, and he ran his thumb lightly over the back of her hand. “Lincoln, go figure out what Roan did with McCreary. Get him into one of the guest cabins and don’t let him leave your sight. I’ll deal with him when she wakes up.”

Lincoln nodded and was out the door. He knew McCreary was injured too, but at this point, he couldn't really care less. Let Roan and Echo triage him. Or let him die, whichever.

Octavia handed him a wet rag with a small smile so he could wipe McCreary’s blood off her hand. He accepted it gratefully, wanting to wipe as many traces of him away as possible.

As he did that, Harper finished her examination, and finally moved to deal with the head wound. She took a deep breath. “Okay, here we go. Bellamy, Octavia, roll her on her side so I take a good look at this. Monty, go grab one of those candles, I need more light. Murphy, get me a damp rag wet with some of our purified water, and then get me the jar of red seaweed extract.” 

They jumped into their roles without question, and waited with baited breath while Harper examined the wound, and Bellamy prayed it looked worse than it really was. 

“Okay,” Harper started once she’d gotten her head cleaned off - there was _so much blood_ in her hair - but Bellamy couldn’t really see from his vantage point. “It’s not quite as big as I thought it would be, but it’s still going to need a few stitches.”

A half hour later, she was stitched and bandaged. Octavia had run back to her cabin and grabbed some spare clothes to change her into and Bellamy, Monty, and Murphy waited out on the step in the front until they were let back in. He didn’t want to leave, but understood the girls were going to need privacy to get her cleaned up and changed and covered in blankets to keep the chill out.

Clarke still hadn’t woken up yet and it was giving him all kinds of anxiety every second that passed. He resumed his place at her side as soon as he was able. 

“Harper, why - why hasn’t she woken up yet?”

“It’s the blood loss, it might take some time,” she said gently. He saw her and Octavia exchange a glance, but really it didn’t matter to him what they thought or the insinuations they were making about the way he was reacting. 

It wasn’t like they were exactly _wrong_ about why he was having such a hard time. 

He knew they at least suspected that he was in the midst of falling for her, but that they probably hadn’t realized quite how far he had already fallen, and he found that he didn’t care about denying or fighting it, it didn’t terrify him as much as he thought it would, and instead he embraced it.

What did terrify him was thinking of something happening to her, of never hearing her laugh, or her sarcasm, or seeing the way her smile lit up her whole face making her blue eyes impossibly brighter and look more alive or even fighting with her over something that didn’t actually matter but they were both too stubborn to back down from. Of never seeing her save another life, or draw another picture.

At some point he must have fallen asleep, because he woke to sun streaming in through the windows and his back aching and sore from being hunched over on her bed all night, his head resting on the bed next to one of her thighs and someone had tossed a blanket over his shoulders.

His first thought was her pulse, placing his fingers firmly on the inside of her wrist, still being careful of avoiding the bruises, which had somehow gotten worse overnight, and focusing on the way her chest rose and fell with every breath. When he was satisfied that she was still alive, he looked around the room. 

Octavia had thrown a pillow and some blankets in the tub in the corner and was curled up, fast asleep. To his surprise, Murphy was sitting in the chair on the other side of Clarke, his face resting near her feet. Harper was awake though, and tending to the fire that was warming the clinic while Monty slept in one of the chairs next to her. 

When she turned and saw Bellamy was awake, she smiled at him, and brushed some hair out of Monty’s face before leaning to give him a kiss on the cheek, making him smile reflexively in his sleep. She stopped at Octavia to adjust her blankets, and leaned to check on Murphy before pulling up a chair next to him, directly across from Bellamy.

“Good morning,” she said to him. 

“Have you been awake all night? You shouldn’t have let me fall asleep,” he told her. He felt so guilty for not staying awake the whole time. And the guilt started to creep in from not confirming whether Lincoln had been able to subdue McCreary or not. His eyes flickered over to the door. He was pretty certain that after this amount of time, if Lincoln had been unsuccessful in apprehending him, Bellamy would know about it though. And that was just about the tip of the mountain of the guilt he felt.

“We took shifts, actually. Once you fell asleep, O and Monty stayed up with her for a couple hours while I got some rest, then it was Murphy. I actually just took over.”

“Why wasn’t I included in the watch rounds?”

“We all figured you could use the rest,” Harper shrugged. “I don't know if you remember, but Bell, you were so panicked and was literally shaking. I’ve never seen you like that before.”

He looked down, focusing on the feel of Clarke’s hand in his, slightly warmer, if he had to guess, than last night, but that could be just because he’d been holding it all night or wishful thinking. His thumb made small circles on the back of her hand, trying to give the both of them a little comfort. He wasn’t sure how much Clarke was aware of while she slept, but he hoped she’d be able to feel it somehow. 

He bit the inside of his cheek while he figured out how to respond, even though Harper technically hadn’t asked him any questions, and she just sat there patiently, seemingly just letting him have the space to work it out. 

When he did speak, his words were quiet, small, but they still sounded loud to him, like saying it was some extraordinary feat for him. 

“Yeah, well, I’ve never really felt like this before.”

Harper wiped at her glistening eyes. “I had a feeling that might be the case.”

He let out a dry chuckle and wiped at his own eyes that had started filling with his confession, trying to keep them from spilling over.

“Does everyone share that same feeling?” he asked, looking around. 

Harper hesitated. “It’s hard not to, after seeing you last night. And over the past few weeks even. When she was gone, and you were… we know you, Bell, better than anyone. So, yeah, we… had a feeling. We were just waiting for you to let us in on it, whenever you were ready.”

“I’m not sure I am. It’s so… big.”

“All the best ones are,” she told him, smiling a little and glancing over at Monty.

He sighed and sniffled, and tried again to prevent any of the tears from falling. One escaped though, and landed on the back of her hand. 

And just like that, like his tears, or his confession, he wasn’t sure which, like that was all she had been waiting for, Clarke’s fingers twitched before settling for wrapping across his hand, squeezing gently. For as weak as her hold on him was, it was clearly deliberate, but it was like he was frozen, staring down at their hands. He slowly panned up her body until he reached her face, which had scrunched up like it was in pain. 

She let out a groan and he stood quickly, bending over her. He let go of her hand and placed it on the side of her head that wasn’t injured, his thumb stroking gently at the wrinkles, trying to smooth them out. 

“Clarke? Hey, Princess, it’s okay, you’re okay, I’ve got you.”

Her eyes were still closed, but he heard her try to clear her throat a little. “B - Bell?” she asked, so unbelievably hoarse. His heart skipped a little hearing her call him _Bell_. She’d never done that before.

“Yeah, yeah, it’s me,” he said softly. He was vaguely aware of Harper leaning in as well on her other side, but for now she was letting him take the lead in speaking to her.

Clarke groaned again and shifted a little. Suddenly her eyes shot open and she was trying to sit up. Her eyes and head flung wildly back and forth looking around the room and her arms started to come up in a panic, one flying to her throat. 

“Wha - Mc - wh - ” she started freaking out, voice barely audible.

He put both hands on either side of her face, too afraid to hold too tightly after seeing how hard McCreary had clearly gripped her the night before, but wanting to get her attention. He made sure to avoid the stitched up wound. She was breathless and trying to heave in giant gulps of air. 

“Clarke, hey, hey it’s okay, it’s just me and Harper, it’s okay, you’re alright,” he tried, putting his face directly in her line of sight.

Her eyes were still swinging side to side, but they finally settled into his and the storm that was clearly raging in them broke his heart. She finally stopped fighting and tipped her head forward, so that her forehead was resting on his.

“That’s it, just breathe. In… and out… in… and out,” he coached. Her hands came up to grip his shoulders, squeezing with more strength than he would have expected after the ordeal she’d gone through.

“McCreary…” she croaked, but Bellamy cut her off.

“We know, we’ve got him. He can’t get to you. You’re okay.”

“O - okay,” she stuttered, sighing a little and falling back so her head rested on the bed again, sliding her arms from his shoulders to his forearms, but never loosening her grip.

Harper finally spoke up, “Clarke, how’re you feeling?”

“L - like s - shit. W - water? My throat…” she tried to explain, stretching it out a little and as she did, Bellamy could see the splotchy purple bruises that had bloomed through the night. He swallowed heavily and tried to shift away to give her space since he was practically on top of her.

She stopped him though, digging her fingers into his skin to hold him there. “No,” she said firmly, coughing a little. “Don’t go.” She shifted a little to the side with a wince so he could sit on the bed next to her.

The plead in her voice made his chest hurt for her, and he did as she wanted, not able to deny her just about anything she’d ask for. “I’m not going anywhere, Princess.” He noticed that Murphy, Octavia, and Monty had woken up when she had been panicking, and were hovering by her feet a little. He shifted his arms so that one rested on the bed next to the non-injured side of her waist and the other slid down her arm and he started to rub circles into her hand.

Harper came next to her with a glass of water, helping her up a little so she could drink from it.

“Thank you. W - what… how did I get here?”

“What’s the last thing you remember?” Bellamy asked gently, knowing he was the only one able to give her this information, and dreading running back through the memory of seeing her on the floor of her cabin unconscious, with McCreary hovering over her. He shivered involuntarily.

“I - I remember laying on the floor of my cabin, my vision was fading after I’d hit my head and he - he was looking at me like…” she winced and Bellamy squeezed her hand to ground her.

“I heard my name,” she finished. And he knew there was probably so much more she wasn’t saying, but that would have to come in time. 

“That was me,” he told her, his eyes sliding shut to prevent the tears from falling, wanting to remain strong for her. 

“I knew it would be,” she said nodding, and his eyes flew open in confusion since he couldn’t imagine how she would have known that; she was already unconscious by the time he had reached her.

“R - run it down for me Harp,” she asked. And of course she would want to know the extent of her injuries instead of just accepting that she’d need rest, always the doctor and caretaker, even when she was the one needing to be taken care of. Her voice was still hoarse but she was getting some of the sound back the more she used it, though he couldn’t imagine how much it probably hurt.

“Right. Well, the laceration on your head needed five stitches. We cleaned it the best we could and dressed it, but I’ll need to take a look at it later to make sure it’s healing okay. You’ve got bruises on your neck, wrist, and ribs, as well as a long scratch of some sort up your side - ”

“ - he had a knife. Ran it up my side while he had me pinned to the wall,” she told them simply and Bellamy got a little dizzy at the visual it gave him. 

A quick glance to the foot of the bed told him the others weren’t faring well with that information either. Murphy had a death grip on the bed, Octavia’s face was made of stone and fire, and Monty had tears brimming in his eyes.

Harper’s voice wavered as she tried to remain composed. “Right. Well, it wasn’t deep so we just put a couple stitches in it and cleaned it up and dressed it. Other than that…” 

“Great. Thank you all for everything, I just need to - ” she groaned as she sat up, shifting around so she could swing her legs off the bed.

“What the fuck do you think you’re doing?” Murphy asked angrily. 

“I’m going back to my cabin. It’s probably a mess and then I need to - ”

“No.”

“Murphy - ”

“Don’t you dare Murphy me. I don’t care about a lot of things or a lot of people, Clarke. But the people in this room, they are my _family_ and that includes you,” he spit at her. Her face looked shocked, like she wasn’t entirely sure she’d heard him correctly. 

“You were attacked, Clarke, you only just woke up, and you’ve lost a lot of blood” Bellamy told her, clearly putting him on Murphy’s side in this and from the look on her face when her eyes shot to him, she did not appreciate that.

“Yes, I’m aware. I remember every single second of his hands on me. Of every disgusting word he said,” she told them, voice breaking and closing her eyes and coughing with the effort. “I’m fine. Just - I can’t be the one on this bed.”

Murphy kicked at a chair and stormed out. 

“I’ll go after him,” Octavia said. “I’m glad you’re going to be okay. Murphy was just really scared, we all were.”

“Come on, Monty, let’s go too… give Bellamy and Clarke a little privacy,” Harper said, backing away.

“That’s not nec - ” Clarke started to insist, but Monty cut her off.

“Yeah, Clarke,” he started, glancing at Bellamy, and fuck if he knew what his current expression looked like. “I think it is.”

Then it was just the two of them and Bellamy couldn’t remember a time he was so nervous.

She turned her head to look at him, wincing with the effort, so he walked around the bed so she wouldn’t have to strain, sitting on the bed next to her. It was the first time he wasn’t touching her since he’d brought her in and he missed it.

“I’m sorry I snapped at you, at all of you.” She took a deep breath and leaned her head down to rest on his shoulder and he took a chance that she would shake him off and reached over to grab her hand again. 

“Clarke when I saw you lying there with him…” he trailed off quietly. “I don’t think… I've been that scared since I was a kid and O almost drowned in the ocean. And I’m not trying to make this about me, that’s not it,” he said shaking his head. “I - we just want to take care of you,” he finished.

He looked up at her and saw her own nerves fighting to the surface as she bit down on her lip. She looked terrified. “Can I ask you something, since you were the one that found me?”

“Of course you can.”

“Do you know if he… did he… ”

He knew what she was asking him before she even finished her question.

He shook his head. “I’m pretty sure I got there in time. Your clothes, they were pretty... intact,” he winced with his explanation. “Except for the rip in your shirt.”

“I can’t stay here, feeling like a victim, like a patient, Bellamy, I need to get out of here.”

He nodded; that was something he could understand. “Where do you want to go? Do you want to stay with Harper for a while?”

She shook her head. “My place will be fine. You said you’ve got him, right?” He nodded. “Okay, then I just want to go to my own bed. Can you help me with that?”

“Are you sure? I mean that’s - ”

“I’m sure.”

Bellamy nodded again and extended an arm to help her up. He couldn't tell her what to do or where to go, but he could go with her, help her, let her know she wasn’t in this alone. He was a little worried about the blood stain that would definitely still be there on the floor of her cabin though and made a note to get it scrubbed or sanded out the first chance he got. She gripped his hand to stand, but as soon as she was, she faltered a little, falling into his side.

He wrapped an arm around her waist and tugged her the rest of the way to him so he could help get her stable. 

“I’ve got you,” he told her.

“I know you do,” she said almost absently, but then she smiled up at him and he wondered if there would ever be a day that he didn’t melt at the way she looked at him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Our girl is a badass and Bellamy is totally head over heels for her. ❤
> 
> Stay safe and healthy everyone! See you like Sunday - ish? ❤
> 
> I have a tumblr, [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/), but it's pretty sparse, since I'm still new to it. But if you've got any additional questions or anything, feel free to drop me a line! There's also an awesome mood board grounderkingbellamy made for this fic on there!


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!
> 
> Hope you all had a safe, fun weekend! I am so blown away by your guys' responses, seriously, each and every one warms my heart and puts a giddy stupid smile on my face! Thank you from the bottom of my heart!! ❤
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

Clarke felt Bellamy wrap a strong arm around her waist, and had very rarely felt so protected. 

She thought that touch would be something she’d hate for a while; the women she’d known on the Ark that had been assaulted always hated being touched, and for good reason. 

But his arms felt only like compassion, and care, and warmth, and she never wanted him to stop touching her like that, however impractical that would actually end up being. His warm hands on her face after she’d woken up disoriented and in a state of panic was exactly what she needed to ground her and it terrified her a little to realize how well he seemed to know what she needed.

When all the memories of what had happened caught up with her she remembered the panic that left her breathless. She felt like she couldn’t focus on anything, couldn’t comprehend that she was safe and away from McCreary. His voice cut through all the noise and fear and helped to steady her.

She remembered passing out, remembered the certain feeling she’d had with no proof to back it up that he would come. It was like she knew he was on his way and that she just had to fight a little longer. 

Things had changed, she could feel it, but she couldn’t put her finger on _why_ exactly. She didn’t feel like he pitied or felt sorry for her, but he was being extra tender and understanding and she found that she was curious about what he had been like while waiting for her to wake up.

In any case, he was the leader of their village and he had too many responsibilities to deal with her having feelings for him too. Her feelings for him were ever evolving, growing deeper and more real and she saw and felt in her bones where it was headed; she’d fall completely for him, and she was terrified what position that would put the both of them in. And she knew that eventually it would sink in exactly what had happened and what had been close to happening and she just needed to focus on moving forward, instead of on whatever feelings she may or may not have for Bellamy Blake.

And McCreary was who knows where, and while she trusted that Bellamy had him under control somewhere, she had no idea what was going to happen. 

Still, there was no regret. She couldn’t find it in herself to regret him being with her, asking him to stay, taking his help. Clarke remembered how when she had first met him, she wouldn’t even let him help her out of the cave blind. It seemed so silly and pointless now, looking back at that. He may have been an ass to her for a while and her to him, but they’d both had their reasons.

When he told Clarke how scared he was of losing her, of seeing her on the floor passed out, it almost felt like he was confessing something with the tone he used. She sensed the hesitancy, but determination to make her understand, which she still wasn’t entirely sure she did, but she knew the importance of what he’d told her. 

And she had been a little stunned to hear Murphy’s outburst, though when she had looked at each one of the people around her, she realized it shouldn’t have. She would have reacted the same way if any one of them had been in this situation. She would be just as concerned and worried as they were about her. It still amazed her how much things could change in just a short amount of time.

After she regained a little bit of stability, Bellamy helped her outside and for a moment she was disappointed she couldn’t see any of her friends, her _family_ , as Murphy had put it. The word felt good to her, not ever having associated that feeling with anyone except her parents and Wells, and she’d almost forgotten what that kind of love felt like. She felt a fresh pang of sorrow run through her at thinking of Wells, of knowing he wasn’t there to support her through this as well, but she knew what he would say.

_You’ve got this, Clarke._

As they got closer to her cabin, she saw Monty and Harper inside already, cleaning up the things Clarke had mentioned she was going to. She knew they weren’t happy about her leaving the clinic to go back there, but they were supporting her all the same. Octavia and Murphy were nowhere to be found though.

As Clarke walked up the steps, she froze, feeling a little bit like she was having an out of body experience, floating above while she laid on this very floor just a day before. She could see the outline of a stain on the wood slats, where someone had obviously tried to clean up the blood from her head wound. It was mostly gone, which amazed her - whoever it was that cleaned it up worked hard to get rid of it. Still, she couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe for a moment.

Then there was a hand on the small of her back, warm and firm and Clarke unfroze, looking up at Bellamy instinctively. He wasn’t even looking at her, but was looking straight ahead, like he was giving her some of his strength without wanting to make a big about it. Like he wanted her to know she wasn’t alone. 

And the feelings she was trying so hard to keep under wraps got a little stronger too, like the strength he was giving her was making those stronger too. 

She took a deep breath and forced her legs past the threshold. “You guys didn’t have to do this,” she tried to tell, already predicting what their response would be. 

“Clarke, you take care of everyone else, and you need rest. You don’t need to do this alone,” Monty told her, taking her out of Bellamy’s hold to wrap his own arms around her. They’d become so much closer than they had been when they landed on the ground. Her fear of touch started flaring a little, but she pushed through it, reminding herself over and over how much she loved Monty and that he wasn’t McCreary. After only a couple of seconds, the feeling faded and she returned his hug with fervor. 

“Let him help you, he cares about you,” he whispered in her ear, not needing to explain who he was talking about. She wondered how many of their friends thought something was going on between her and Bellamy.

And again, she wondered what Bellamy was like after he’d found her the night before. 

“Okay, _skats_ , shoo,” Harper said, waving her hands at the guys. “I’m going to help her wash her hair and get her settled and you - ” she said pointing a finger at Bellamy. “You are a freaking mess. She’s awake now, it’s okay for you to take care of yourself too.”

Bellamy’s eyes furrowed a moment in confusion before he looked down at himself and for the first time, Clarke did too, noticing his clothes. They were a mess, dirty and unkempt and she knew it must’ve been from when he’d carried her to the clinic.

“You never went to go change? You stayed in those all night?” she asked, a little surprised.

He turned beet red, running a hand through his hair and it was definitely weird to be jealous of a hand, but the involuntary flip of her stomach told her that she was. 

Harper chuckled and answered for him while she arranged things at the sink. “Clarke, we barely got him to leave your side long enough to go to the sink a _few feet away_ from you to wash his damn hands, let alone let you out of his sight to change his clothes.” She said it almost absentmindedly, until Bellamy turned a glare on her and she cringed a little, mouthing something at him Clarke couldn’t see. 

“What am I missing?” she asked, her brain too tired to really process through what she had just heard and what it meant.

“I’ve got him. Get her settled, we’ll leave you two be,” Monty said, tugging at Bellamy, who tumbled a little in his hesitancy to leave. 

“I’ll be right back… if you want.”

“Sure,” she told him. But then she added something so he wouldn’t feel obligated to in case he had other things to do. “Unless - I - I mean I’m just going to be sleeping, probably, so you don’t have to.”

“Well, I could, but - I mean, it’s - ”

“Okay, I can just - see you - it’s fine -”

“Holy shit, this painful,” came a voice from the doorway. She turned to see Murphy leaning against the doorway with his arms folded. He pushed himself off and walked over to Clarke. “I’m sorry, for getting angry earlier. You know what you need, and we’re here to help you and - ”

She stretched a hand out and put it on his shoulder and gave him a small smile. “It’s okay, Murphy. I know.”

He looked at her for a long moment before nodding. “Okay, Blake, let’s get out of here. There’s something you need to take care of,” he said, resuming the effort Monty had been making to tug Bellamy.

Bellamy looked at him and cocked his head a little. 

“Some - ” he glanced quickly at Clarke. “- one?”

McCreary. If Bellamy hadn’t left her side all night, of course he hadn’t had a chance to deal with him yet. She wondered passively who had taken care of his injuries. She knew she gave almost as much as she got.

Bellamy’s expression hardened in understanding and she saw his shoulders ripple as his muscles tensed. He didn’t have much need to flex them in their daily lives, and she always forgot just how strong and even intimidating he could be at his full height and determination.

He looked at her then, and even though his stance and everything about him screamed anger, his eyes looked at her with that same compassion and understanding she’d gotten used to seeing in him, like he was trying to convince himself still that it was okay to leave.

“Go, give him hell,” she told him.

“Or you know, send him there,” she heard Octavia say from the doorway where she was walking in with a tray of food that she set on the table. 

“We’d all help,” Harper murmured. Tears sprung to Clarke’s eyes a little, hearing how angry they were on her behalf. 

The guys finally left, and Octavia and Harper got started on her hair, guiding her to her sink. 

“You two don’t have to help me, I’m sure I can figure it out,” she told them, hand drifting to the wound on her head and cringing a little when her fingers made contact. 

“Clarke, we’re your friends. For the last time, just let us help you,” Octavia told her. Clarke nodded. They got Clarke situated at the sink. “Okay, now that you two are set, I’m going to get a fire going, this _fotam_ is so cold already,” she said, like she was personally offended, and it made Clarke chuckle a little at the thought of Octavia being mad at the weather, like it was something she could control and it just wasn’t listening to her.

If the weather was going to listen to any one human though, it would be Octavia Blake.

The water was cold on her head and soon her teeth were chattering. 

“I’m sorry, I’m almost done. There… there was a lot,” Harper apologized. 

“It’s fine, I can handle it.”

Once they were done, and Harper had toweled off her hair, Octavia sat behind her on the bed, braiding it back so her cold hair wouldn’t wrap around her face. 

They helped her get in bed and while Clarke had just spent the entire night sleeping, even just the small amount of energy she’d had to exert getting to this point made her completely exhausted. 

Harper bid her goodbye, needing to get the clinic in order in case anyone needed something, leaving Octavia with Clarke. When Harper opened the door to leave, she saw Murphy sitting outside the door on the steps. He didn't say anything when their eyes made contact, just gave her one of his usual smirks and a tilt of the head before facing forward again, not making any attempt to leave. 

Octavia hopped onto her mattress though, and laid down next to her, much like she had when she found out Wells had died. She scooted close enough to Clarke that their shoulders were a hair away, but not enough to crowd her, probably sensing that Clarke needed a little space. 

“You know,” she began once they were settled, clearing her throat a little. “My mom was assaulted too. That’s how I’m here.”

Clarke turned her head so she could face her, thankful the wound was on the other side of her head so she could still look at her. “I know, Bell told me,” she responded softly. It was a deeply personal thing that he’d told her and Clarke wasn’t entirely sure how Octavia would react to the fact that she knew that information. But they’d gotten so close that she’d even started referring to Octavia as O in her head. Their relationship felt… familial and comfortable, so she was reasonably sure she’d be okay if Clarke knew that. 

Octavia’s eyebrows shot up, but in surprise, not anger. “He did?” She hummed a little eyebrows furrowed in confusion and it was one of those looks that made her look so much like her brother.

“What?” 

“Nothing really, it’s just… he doesn’t usually talk about that with just anyone. Of course, most people know already. Anyway, I only bring it up to say don’t feel bad about needing help, or asking for space. We will support you in whatever it is you need. All of us.”

“Thanks. I’m... really glad I’m here.”

“Me too.” Then Octavia cocked her head a little bit to the side so she was a little closer. “Your voice sounds better,” she remarked.

“Still feels weird though, off. And every time I move my neck it aches.”

“It’ll take time.” 

She wanted to ask about the stain, wanted to know who to thank, but the words almost made her sick to say out loud. She tried clearing her throat. “The, uh, stain,” she choked out. “It’s almost gone.” She hoped her point would get across.

“I heard Bell murmur something about it last night, like he was reminding himself to take care of it and he was already taking care of you, so Lincoln and I cleaned and tried to sand most of it off. We didn’t get it all, but we tried to make it not so noticeable at least. We’ll outright replace the boards at some point,” she told Clarke like it was no big deal.

“Thank you both, that was… thank you.”

Clarke didn’t respond anymore than that, just nodding, talking just too much. Octavia nodded back to her. “Sleep, one or more of us will be here when you wake.”

So Clarke closed her eyes, not able to keep them open any longer. 

Unfortunately, the second she did, the images she saw made it clear her dreams were not going to make it a restful sleep.

***

He’d been out there for two hours whittling away at a piece of wood, having taken over the watch shift from Murphy at sunset, who reluctantly let him take his place after having sat there all day. Octavia had gone back home to get some rest too. Harper and Monty were back at Harper’s cabin, and he assumed that Monty would be moving out of Murphy’s any day now.

Bellamy had spent most of the day keeping himself busy, knowing that Clarke had other people around her to keep her company and after their clumsy goodbye, he wasn’t even sure if she’d prefer him or someone else with her. Everything felt so awkward, like she knew there was something he wasn’t telling her and now that he’d accepted that he had fallen for her, and all he wanted to do was tell her. He wanted to wrap her in his arms and kiss her beautiful lips to see if they were as soft as he’d imagine them being or feel her smile against his skin.

He wanted to tell her how brave she was, how strong. How in awe he was of her for going through the shit she had and still somehow put one foot in front of the other and devoted her life to taking care of others. How proud he was of her for fighting off McCreary.

There were so many more things he loved about her, and he wanted to tell them all to her.

It just wasn’t exactly the best timing. 

But he was an honest person, always trying to be upfront, say the right thing, and it felt like he was keeping this giant secret from her. 

But if he told her what he felt now, it would be for _him_ , to ease _his_ urge for her to know. Especially if - when - she didn’t feel the same way, she’d be overwhelmed, feel uncomfortable around him, and that was the last thing he wanted for her. She deserved to feel safe and cared for. 

His feelings could wait. 

Bellamy flexed his hand, fanning his fingers out, feeling the ache of his bandaged knuckles. He still had to tell Clarke what had happened earlier when he’d finally confronted McCreary, but he didn’t want to. He felt like a failure.

\------------------------

**  
_8 hours ago_  
**

Bellamy stalled for as long as possible. After leaving Clarke’s, he’d changed, paced around some, got something to eat, talked himself out of avoiding this confrontation any longer and just heading back to Clarke’s.

He’d never wanted to leave, but she’d told him to go, to take care of what he’d needed to, reminding him he was still a leader with responsibilities.

He was beginning to see how different they were in how they dealt with situations, but still, he couldn’t help but note that their differences fit together. She looked at things practically, with her head, making the logical decisions, and he used his emotions and his gut instincts to guide him. 

It’d been why he was so reluctant to leave her. His heart wanted to stay with her. But her logical side reminded him that he couldn’t. He just hoped that it really was because of that, and not because she didn’t want him there. 

He wouldn’t blame her. He’d known something was off with McCreary, that he could follow through with his taunts to Bellamy earlier that day. It’s why he’d had Lincoln keep an eye on him. But then he let his guard down, thinking that just because he was asleep, that he’d stay that way and wouldn’t need a guard. He should’ve known better and Clarke paid the price for his misstep. 

He and Murphy approached Lincoln, who was standing very stoically outside the cabin that they’d kept McCreary in all day. He and Anya had taken turns watching Azgeda. 

Bellamy was informed that Roan and Echo had cleaned him up and dressed his wounds. Apparently his girl had kicked a good portion of McCreary’s ass before she hit her head.

Not that she was his girl. _Shit_. He needed to make sure he kept that in check before it accidentally slipped out his mouth. 

“How is she?” Lincoln asked immediately.

“It was rough, she was unconscious most of the night, but she’s home now. O is with her.”

“And I’m headed over there in a few minutes. I want to look the son of a bitch in the face first,” Murphy snarled. There were maybe a handful of times Murphy had ever looked this murderous, and this was one of them.

And I’ll be taking over the shifts from them tonight. But right now I need to deal with this piece of shit,” Bellamy told him. But he couldn’t move. He was practically vibrating with rage, as was Murphy, and he needed to be absolutely certain he was in control before he was ready to handle it.

“I’m sorry, man,” Lincoln said quietly, breaking Bellamy out of the rage spiral he was in. 

“Why are you apologizing to me? I’m not the one who had to go through it,” he pointed out.

“True. But you had to watch the woman you - Clarke go through the aftermath of it. You literally got there just in time… if it were Octavia… I don’t know if I’d have been able to stop myself from killing him.”

Oh. _The woman you -_

Did everyone know?

Murphy was pointedly ignoring his gaze.

He was starting to get mildly annoyed that he was apparently so easily read. 

Lincoln stepped aside and turned so he could go in with Bellamy and Murphy. Before he opened the door, he turned his head just slightly and said, “Don’t… ” He sighed. “Don't let me kill him.” Lincoln nodded, understanding without any further explanation. 

Because he really wasn’t certain how this would end and as much as the son of a bitch deserved to answer for his crime, he also had to be responsible for the rest of the people in his village, make sure that no retribution would come to them if he did kill McCreary. He had to be more careful than he wanted to not to start a war with Azgeda and killing McCreary might actually do that. 

He hated being under Ontari’s thumb. Always having to second guess things because she might not like it and murder a bunch of people. He’d heard of her doing that a year or so ago with Trishanakru. An Azgeda warrior was in the village doing a trade and got sick and died. There was nothing the village healer could do. But Ontari blamed them anyway and killed their healer and his family. 

If he _intentionally_ killed McCreary, no matter whether he deserved it or not...

He took a deep breath and opened the door to see McCreary sitting on the floor, bouncing a ball he’d gotten somewhere against one of the walls. He knew Roan and Echo were over in the dining hall for lunch.

It was the first time he’d seen the man since it all had happened and the man was a _mess_. Bellamy felt a wave of pride roll through him at just how thoroughly Clarke had managed to dishevel him. His clothes were a mess of old blood, both down his front from his broken nose and his neck from where both Bellamy and Clarke had injured him. Both of his eyes were black and his nose was swollen. There was also a sizable stain on his side. 

He glanced back at Murphy, who had failed to hide a smirk on his face, clearly pleased with how rough he was looking as well. 

There was hardly any ass left to kick, really.

“Finally,” McCreary sneered at them. “This is inhumane, keeping me in here. Wait until Ontari hears - ” he began, berating Bellamy and any sense of diplomacy he had planned on using went out the door when the idiot opened his mouth. 

It took Bellamy only three long strides before reaching him. He fisted a hand in the man’s shirt and wrenched him to his feet, slamming him into the wall.

“You think I give an actual fuck about Ontari? You’re lucky enough just to be _alive_. So shut your piece of shit mouth you disgusting son of a bitch,” he growled, and while McCreary glared at him, he said nothing in response and just tried to shove Bellamy off of him, which didn’t amount to much considering his weak state and the strength of Bellamy’s fury. 

“You’re really going to let your leader treat me like this?” he asked Lincoln and Murphy behind him. 

Lincoln shrugged. “I would’ve actually killed you.”

“And I would’ve buried your body,” Murphy added.

“See? You have no friends here, McCreary. So here’s what’s going to happen. You are staying here, while I convene a council to put you on trial.”

McCreary looked murderous. “Trial? What the actual fuck? That blonde bitch assaulted _me_! As did you!” he said, gesturing to his side and neck. “And you prevented me from getting my injuries taken care of, asshole! Roan did a shit job with the stitches in my side!”

“I said keep your mouth shut,” Bellamy reminded him through gritted teeth. He banged him against the wall again. “And you look like you’re doing just fine to me. Though, your voice is a little nasally,” he taunted. If McCreary kept talking shit, he was going to find it too hard to keep his self control in check. 

Roan and Echo walked in then. “What’s going on here?”

“He’s trying to keep me hostage under the guise of a fucking trial, Roan!” he said indignantly, and Bellamy let him push him off that time. “You have no right to do _anything_ to me, asshole. I answer to Ontari, and _not_ to you. And something tells me she’ll believe _my_ version of events over that fucking lying _skaigada_.”

Murphy started lunging and Lincoln put out an arm to hold him back. Bellamy folded his arms to keep from slamming him against the wall again.

“Not a fucking chance,” Bellamy said. Over his dead body was he letting this scum walk out of Sonchahou.

“Bellamy.”

“Roan. You’re not taking him!” he roared.

“I have to. He belongs to Azgeda, and only they can decide on punishment. I hate it as much as you do. I’d rather feed him to the pigs,” Roan told him, spitting at the ground towards McCreary, who just glared at him.

“Bellamy, it’ll be fine,” Echo tried to soothe, placing a hand on his shoulder. “Ontari will deliver justice.”

“She will do absolutely _nothing_ to him, you know that. He was right, she’ll believe him over Clarke,” he tried to reason, trying to sound more confident than desperate, though it was definitely headed in that direction. “And get your hand off me,” he told her, shaking her hand off, clearly irritating her in the process.

“Bellamy, I will make sure Ontari understands what I saw. I was with you that night, remember? I will see to it personally that he gets the punishment he deserves,” Roan tried to reason. “But you can’t keep him here, I’m sorry, man.”

He closed his eyes. He knew he had to act in the best interest of his people, and causing issues with Azgeda was going to be in direct conflict with that. But his rage was only growing. Hell if he was going to let him leave without doing _something_.

So he reared his arm back and heard the crack in the man’s jaw where his fist connected with it to go along with the rest of his injuries. He ignored the stinging in his knuckles and the small stream of blood that appeared on the broken skin. Harper would help fix them up. 

“I want you all gone within the hour. And I meant what I said yesterday. Make sure Ontari knows that none of you are welcome back in my village for anymore _checkups_.” He, Murphy, and Lincoln moved to leave as McCreary roared obscenities in the background. “And Roan, make sure he pays.”

Roan nodded at him and then he was gone.

\------------------------

It’d taken Bellamy the rest of the day to calm down. And while he still wasn’t completely in control of his anger, he could feel it ebbing with every stroke his knife made on the horse he was carving.

In any other circumstance, he’d spend his time on the beach and in the waves, letting the ocean float his anger away while he whittled, like his mother had taught him when he was younger, and even more of a hothead than he was these days. But he wouldn’t leave her again. Not unless she ordered him away.

He’d been on watch for four hours, deep into the night now, and he knew Monty or Octavia or someone would be along shortly to try to get him to leave, to get some rest. But then he heard something, movement, or rustling form inside the cabin behind him, and he froze, listening. It was entirely possible she had just gotten up for a drink of water, or something to eat, but he froze all the same just in case - 

“No!” he heard her scream and he was on his feet in a flash. He was afraid the noise he’d heard would be from nightmares. 

He darted inside, trying not to stomp around like an elephant and sure enough, she was tangled up in her sheets, thrashing around. 

“Clarke! Hey Princess, it’s me, you’re okay,” he tried, kneeling down next to her but she wouldn’t stop. He didn’t want to touch her or hold her down in case that was the very thing she was having nightmares about, so he wasn’t sure how to actually help. “Clarke! Shh, shh, you’re okay, come on, please hear me.”

“Please stop, just leave, go!” she pleaded with someone, eyes still closed and sobbing. And now instead of thrashing, she had switched to curling up into a tight little ball, tucking her head into her body like she was trying to disappear.

Well, he wouldn’t let her. She didn’t need to disappear with him. 

So he did the next thing he could think of and prayed to whoever happened to be listening that it was the right thing to do. He took his jacket off and gently wrapped his arms around her, being careful not to restrain her. He scooted her over a little so he was on the bed next to her, sitting up against the wall and he tucked her into his side.

When she didn’t recoil, but still didn’t relax, he let his grip grow a little tighter until he felt her muscles go languid, her body uncoiling her limbs one by one. Her fist found his shirt and she buried her nose into his chest. He tried to calm his pounding heartbeat.

“That’s it, you’re okay, I’ve got you,” he reassured her, one of his hands absentmindedly stroking her arm. Once she had calmed down and had drifted off into a deeper sleep, he tried to scoot out from under her to give her space, but she gripped his shirt tighter, not letting him leave. She was obviously unaware that she was even doing it, but his heart skipped a little anyway at the idea that she was comforted by his presence, by his hold on her. 

So the arm that was not wrapped around her reached for the blankets to cover them with, trying to be careful not to wake her up. He scooted down a little, not enough to be completely lying next to her though as he was probably already flirting with that line of whether what he was doing was even appropriate or not.

She scooted into him even further if that was possible, fitting into his side like she belonged there and something they’d done a thousand times before. 

He tried not to think about the fact that he’d _like_ her to belong there.

His eyes became heavy and he knew someone would be along shortly to relieve him of watch and would most likely find them there like that, but he was so comfortable where he was with her, he selfishly hoped that whoever it was wouldn’t wake him.

***

The first thing Clarke was aware of when she woke up was that it was dark out and she must’ve slept all day and into the night.

The second thing was that she was not alone. 

Despite the chilly weather, she was practically overheating. She had blankets piled on top of her and was currently wrapped around a furnace. She shifted a little, wincing with the movement, the bruises on her neck protesting with the motion. But she didn’t need to pivot her head that much to know that the heartbeat currently thumping in her ears belonged to Bellamy, who was sleeping soundly. 

She wasn’t quite sure how they had become so entangled or when he’d even arrived, considering the last person she saw before she fell asleep was Octavia. But somehow, there he was and there she was, her head on his chest, one of his arms wrapped loosely but securely around her. 

A stray thought in her mind noted that since registering that it was Bellamy she was wrapped in, she still hadn’t attempted to move. 

It was wrong; she should move. She should get up and act embarrassed for whatever reason it was that caused them to end up in this position. Which was probably the nightmares.

They were plentiful throughout the night, even if she didn’t really remember the details. Somehow that made it worse though; it made them feel more like ghosts that were haunting her. In the room with her ready to hurt or scare her, but just out of reach and nothing tangible that she could fight or make go away. 

Clarke could only imagine what Bellamy had to see her go through. 

And she wasn’t just talking about the nightmares. 

He intuitively tightened his hold around her, as if he could read her thoughts and needed to reassure himself that she was there and safe. 

And safe was exactly what she was feeling. Safe and warm and cared for and it might be that she needed it and was too tired to fight it, but she didn’t _want_ to move. She didn’t want _him_ to move or leave either; she wanted them to stay in their little bubble for as long as he would let them. 

He groaned a little and Clarke froze, trying to decide if she wanted to pretend she was still sleeping, or that she’d woken up at the same time. Because as much as she had _just_ thought that she’d just say screw it and continue to cuddle with him, now that he was actually waking up she was second guessing herself.

“I know you’re awake,” came a voice from above her. 

She continued to stay frozen, still trying to figure out what to say, if anything.

“As soon as I moved, you tensed up under my arm. And your heart is going a mile a minute.”

She moved then, sitting up to look at him. “You can’t feel my heart,” she said indignantly.

The smirk he quirked his lips into told her that was exactly the reaction he’d been expecting and she walked right into it, proving that she was indeed awake.

“You’re a jerk,” she told him, collapsing back onto his chest just in time to feel the rumble of laughter roll through him. It felt weirdly normal for her to do that, even though she should be moving farther away from him now that they were both awake. She hadn’t even really thought about whether he’d want her to. 

But if his arm tightening around her once she was back in position was any indication, he wasn’t in any hurry to move. So maybe she should just go with her instincts.

“How’re you… ” He sighed a little nervously before continuing. “This is going to sound stupid, but I really have no other idea how to say this… how’re you feeling?”

She chuckled a little. “It’s a fine question to ask,” she told him, lightly running her finger over his shirt. Again, instinct. “I’m… I don’t know actually. I feel okay, a little numb I guess? Kind of apprehensive? Nervous? My mind feels like it’s spinning a million miles a minute but also like it’s blank all at the same time.” Then she added, “Sorry, that didn’t really make sense.”

“No, it’s okay. I get it. Well, I don’t _get it_ get it, obviously, just…” he trailed off.

It was silent another minute before she spoke up again. “So… how’d you end up… here?” She was almost afraid to ask, like if she drew attention to it, he’d realize they were cuddled in her bed and would try to leave.

Instead, he only shifted slightly, bringing a hand up to cover hers on his chest. She wasn’t even sure if he knew he had done it. She felt him start swirling small circles with his thumb across her knuckles in that way he does that grounds her and calms her.

“You, uh, you were screaming, asleep still. I tried to wake you up, but that just seemed to make it worse and I didn’t want to… grab and shake you or anything so I… I just didn’t know what else to do and you relaxed and - ” he let out a small chuckle, “ - and you had my shirt in your fist, wouldn’t let me leave so I - ”

“ - just stayed and fell asleep?” she guessed quietly.

“Yeah.”

She hummed and replied, “I’m glad you did.” His thumb stuttered in it’s circles before resuming its path, but otherwise he didn’t say anything or react. “Thank you,” she said softly. 

She wanted to say, _should_ say, that he could go now, that she’d probably be fine. But something prevented the words from leaving her mouth. 

“You can go back to sleep.” He hesitated before adding, “I can just - ” she could feel his body shake a little in time with his head, like he was trying to figure out what exactly he should say.

“I’m not tired,” she said. It was true, she’d been mostly sleeping for a whole day now and she was wide awake. “You can go back to sleep yourself though,” she decided to include, making sure he knew that didn’t mean he had to leave. 

His body relaxed a little and she shifted so they were laying perpendicular to each other, the back of her head instead of her ear now resting on his chest, trying to be mindful of her head wound. Her whole body ached with the movements, but she welcomed the aches, reminding her that they meant she was alive. 

“I don’t think I really want to sleep right now,” he finally told her. 

“Okay, then what do you want to talk about?”

“Well, first, I want to say… I need to say… Clarke, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. I knew you were a target, I saw the way he looked at you, talked about you… I didn’t protect you.” He sounded so small, so ashamed. 

“Bellamy, you _saved_ me,” she told him, sitting up so she could look him in the eyes. “This wasn’t your fault. He would’ve found some way… it wasn’t your fault,” she said firmly. She needed to make sure he understood that.

“You saved yourself. I saw him a little bit ago, he was looking pretty rough,” he chuckled and she felt her cheeks go red at his praise.

“Not enough. I basically just held him off until… ” she shivered where she was sitting, cold now that she wasn’t laying on top of him soaking in his warmth.

“Don’t sell yourself short. You’re strong, tough. I hardly did anything. I still should’ve stopped it before it had a chance to get that far,” his eyebrows furrowed in his disappointment in himself and she had an urge to reach over to smooth them out. 

She remembered what he’d told her about his mother, how the attack happened while he was out. He was a kid then and wouldn’t have been able to do anything, possibly would have even gotten hurt himself, but she remembered the guilty way he talked about it. 

She shifted slightly so she was closer to him. He seemed to sense her doing it, seeking out his warmth and laid an arm across her lap. He bit his lip looking down at it, so she laid her own hand on top of it so he’d know that was okay.

They were acting like they’d never had before and Clarke wasn’t really sure what to make of it. It seemed too domestic, too instinctual. She shouldn’t crave this much touch, this much connection after what had happened.

But maybe it was _because_ of what had happened that she was allowing herself this. She needed to remember what touch and connection felt like with someone she trusted and cared about.

Because there was no use denying anymore that she cared about him. Deeply. Probably too deeply for who they were and how he probably felt towards her. 

“You know,” she began. “I’d say that I’m only going to say this once, but really, I’ll say it however many times you need to hear it. This was not your fault. Your mother’s attack was not your fault.” As she suspected, the moment she brought his mother up, he snapped his gaze to hers, completely rapt. 

Good. She wanted him to pay attention.

“The entire world is not on your shoulders, Bellamy Blake. You aren’t responsible for everything bad that happens. Sometimes life… just hands you a shit card. And so you deal,” she shrugged. Then she remembered something he’d said to her not all that long ago, something she’d needed then, and something she knew he needed now. “You want forgiveness? Fine, I’ll give it to you. You’re forgiven, okay?”

She didn’t know what effects the attack may have down the road, once her physical injuries had started to heal and she started to feel the more emotional ones, but she _did_ know that he was not responsible. 

“You’re amazing, you know that?”

She opened and closed her mouth like a stupid fish, not really sure how to respond. 

“You went through something unimaginable and you’re sitting there, comforting _me_. It’s supposed to be the other way around.”

She smirked at him. “Yeah, well, I like subverting expectations,” she teased once she’d gotten her voice working again.

“And you do a good job at it. You are definitely not what I expected.”

There was that tone again. The tone that suggested some sort of double meaning. Something just beyond the surface that she couldn’t quite grab a hold of. 

“And you’re deflecting,” she pointed out. “You think you can just tell me I’m amazing, which is obviously true, and I’ll forget that you’re blaming yourself for this?”

“I wouldn’t dream of it, Princess. Can we just agree to disagree for now?” he asked, small, like he needed this to be the end of it for now. “Come on,” he said, patting his chest. “Lay back down.”

She couldn’t help the small smile that found its way onto her face and wanted to tease him a little more before she gave in. Which, she absolutely planned to. “You don’t want me laying on you,” she said, shaking her head.

“I don’t?” he asked, eyebrows raised.

“I mean,” she gestured to his chest. “Look at your shirt, you don’t want me drooling all over you when I eventually fall back asleep. And then you’ll be trapped and won’t be able to leave. You don’t want that.”

“Did I say that?” Again, with the tone, and careful way he said it. She focused on his chest rising and falling with his breathing, unable to completely meet his eyes.

“Do you?” she managed to force herself to ask, her face flushing a little, the teasing gone from her own tone.

“Well maybe I like beautiful women drooling all over me,” he said cheekily, making her eyes finally meet his with a tilt of his head and a smirk on his face. His seriousness hidden, but not completely gone, with just enough of levity to lighten the tension. 

“You use that line on all the girls?” she asked back, now fully aware that they were flirting with the line of… actually flirting. And she had to admit, she didn’t hate it. Especially since, technically speaking, he’d just called her beautiful. The thought that he might be flirting back, the hope that maybe her feelings weren’t entirely one sided made her stomach flip and her heart rate pick up a few paces.

His smile faltered a bit and she could see the wheels turning her words over and over in his head. “No, I don’t,” he said finally and simply with a shy smile that did nothing to help her heart. They seemed to teeter back and forth between teasing and meaningful.

“Bellamy… ” she breathed, when the air became thick with something they hadn’t put a name to. She wasn’t sure where they were headed from here, because it felt a little like they were heading for a cliff and she wasn’t entirely sure she was ready to jump just yet. She wanted to make sure it wasn’t the darkness and warmth and comfort they were feeling.

“Come on,” he beckoned, patting his chest again. I am an excellent storyteller,” he boasted, seemingly also sensing the tension and her apprehension, and didn’t want to push her. 

She laid down without protest that time and when he asked what she wanted to hear him talk about, the first story that came to mind was the one she’d see him tell around the bonfire. He chuckled, but obliged. Then he followed up with another legend, and another, and at some point she remembered asking him to tell her a story from his childhood with O, a happy one, and she could practically hear his soft smile - if it was even possible to hear a smile - as he began one of how he taught her to swim. 

They both fell asleep around the time the sky was starting to lighten after laughing at the time the siblings got into a fight and Octavia declared she was going to run away, only to hide out at the beach for two days while Bellamy ran around worried sick. He’d finally found her sleeping in a huge sandcastle she’d made.

When Clarke remarked she’d only seen sandcastles in books, he got a mischievous grin on his face and promised her he’d teach her to make a sandcastle fit for a Princess.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well, we're definitely getting closer... I told you this was a slow burn! But they won't be able to hold back forever, promise 😉 Also, soft happy Bellarke is SO AWESOME! But we definitely get into more angst and craziness in the next few chapter so soak it up now!
> 
> I hope you enjoyed the chapter, even though they had to send McCreary back. He's not entirely in one piece at least! 
> 
> There's an amazing moodboard that was made for this fic [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488) by grounderkingbellamy!
> 
> Have a good few days, and I'll see you with our next update Wednesday! ❤


	14. Chapter 14

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Whew! Okay, sorry it's a little late, though TECHNICALLY it's still Wednesday my time 😉 But seriously you all deserve your own kudos for hanging in there for this one. 
> 
> If I could give you all your own kudos, I so would for all the outpouring of love and support on this story. I had no idea how long this would be when I started it (*snort*) and I appreciate each and every one you!
> 
> So without further ado, here it is! I hope it was worth the wait (it's another long one!) and I'll see you on the other side!

After that first night, Bellamy started to notice that it was like Clarke was there, but not really there. Whatever bubble they had been in that night was gone by the time they woke up the next morning. On the surface, she was acting completely normal, laughing at Murphy’s stupid jokes, making fun of Monty every time he said something overly poetic about Harper, or engaging with the children of the village that had started to come up and sit with her when she was in the dining hall. 

But he’d started to notice little things, things he was sure he only noticed because he was so finely attuned to her these days. Like the fact that her smile never reached her eyes and her laughter faded far too quickly or would be a little out of place. Or when a door slammed somewhere or someone came up behind her she would freeze for the briefest of seconds before letting out a shaky breath and smiling like it hadn’t affected her. 

She had barely reacted when he told her that McCreary had gone back to Polis to face judgement there by Ontari’s hand. He’d apologized, feeling like he’d failed her in some way by not forcing him to remain in Sonchahou. But she’d responded only with a small sigh and a hand on his shoulder telling him that he made the right decision in letting him go, that that was just the way things were and she was just glad he was out of the village.

He’d expected her to be furious and demand that he request McCreary back so she could take a few more pieces out of him, but she said none of that. 

It broke his heart.

It would take time, he knew it would. Every night, he always second guessed himself over whether he should go check on her, to make sure her nightmares weren’t keeping her up. But he didn’t want to hover, and he didn’t want her to think he was being too overbearing. Though, he was sure she would be honest with him if he were, so maybe he _should_ go over there. Hence the constant back and forth in his mind that caused him to not get any rest either.

He chalked it up to his distracted mind and not the fact that after only one night with her, his body seemed to only want to sleep if he could hold her in his arms. 

But he had at least tried to support her subtly, the best he could. He’d started intentionally sitting next to her at meals so that she would freeze or form her hands into fists so tight her knuckles turned white, he’d reach under the table and smooth her it out and let her squeeze his hand as tightly as she needed instead. Or lean a little closer so their arms would run the length of the other, trying to will even just a little of his own strength into her.

She was so strong already, so resilient, but he wanted her to know she didn’t have to be strong on her own. That it was okay to need his strength every once in a while. 

The first time he’d done that, grabbed her fist, he’d intended to let her go when her panic subsided, but when he loosened his grip, hers remained firm, resistant, like she didn’t want to let go. 

And obviously he didn’t _want_ to let go either, so he'd left it where it was. 

After a few days, she’d just automatically reach out for him first when she felt herself losing it, and it made his heart skip every time, knowing she was letting him in, sharing her burden with him.

Now it was two weeks later and he kept wanting to talk to her, check in with her without making her feel pressured. But everytime he opened his mouth to speak, he clammed up again. 

He had just finished a meeting with a couple of neighbors having a dispute over chickens, and the second he stepped out of the meeting hall, Murphy was sitting on the bench waiting for him. 

“What’s up Murphy? You got chicken problems too?” he joked, taking off down the path. Murphy stood and followed.

“No, but _you_ do,” Murphy said accusingly.

“What the hell are you talking about? I don’t have any chickens.” Bellamy asked, confused.

“No no,” he let out a dry chuckle. “ _You_ are the chicken.”

“I really don’t feel like speaking in riddles right now Murphy.”

“Fine. I’ll get to the point. Did you talk to her yet?” Murphy asked him, raising an eyebrow. 

_Shit_. He should’ve seen this coming. 

“Your trip. You leave in three days,” he continued like it was obvious. Bellamy had found out the day before that Luna was wanted in Polis for some kind of summit, but she had _haknes_ \- or the flu, as Clarke called it, so he was going to have to go in her stead, along with Octavia. He hated leaving the village, hated going to Polis even more than that, and it was going to take at least a week before he was going to be able to come back. Anya and Lincoln would be left in charge for the time being.

“I’m aware of when I need to leave Murphy,” he said quietly.

“Then why haven’t you told Clarke?”

Bellamy sighed. “Because… Murphy, it isn’t that big of a deal. She’s not going to - she’ll be fine.”

“Bullshit.”

Even he knew that wasn’t true. A lot had changed between them and if there was one thing that he did know, it was that she was definitely going to care. They were… _something_. Friends didn’t even really describe it anymore. And besides, she could take care of herself, he knew that, and she had Harper and Monty and Murphy. 

But.

He didn’t want to inflate his own importance to her, didn’t want to make assumptions.

But.

He cared for, he loved her, was indescribably _in_ love with her. He didn’t want to leave, especially since he’d let her learn to rely on him and he didn’t want to renege on that. 

Plus.

He would miss her. Even on days that he didn’t see her as much, when they didn’t get a chance to spend meals together because she had too many patients, or he had too many meetings but they were at least still in the same village, he missed her. 

A whole week.

He had no idea how she really felt about him, whether she was in the same place, or even in the same vicinity as he was, with everything she was emotionally going through and his cowardice in having an actual conversation with her about it didn’t help matters. And now he was out of time. He had no idea what the summit was for, what decision was being made or relayed to the clans of the alliance, but under Ontari’s leadership the coalition was always a little fragile, like the smallest slight would set the whole thing off.

It was dangerous, there was no doubting that. He was even struggling to _let_ O come with him, though there was rarely a time he ever let O do anything. 

“I will tell her.”

“Today?” Murphy pushed.

“Yes. Somehow. I just… ” he trailed off, trying to figure out how to phrase this next part. “I’m just worried. She’s not… I think she’s still struggling and I don’t want to just leave her. But I don’t really have a choice.”

“I know, Bellamy. She’ll be okay. We’ll keep a close eye on her. Everything here will be fine,” he tried to assure him, not even teasing or being sarcastic anymore. “Just tell her man.” Murphy clapped him on the back and took off. 

He wasn’t exactly doing a good job of hiding his feelings for Clarke, not that he was really even trying anymore, so he knew most of the rest of his family at least suspected as much.

He wondered how much Clarke had figured out.

Maybe he should just man up and tell her. 

Maybe he shouldn’t do that to her, in case something happened to him in Polis.

Maybe he _should_ tell her for that very same reason.

She deserved to know that someone loved her as much as he did. That he loved her not just because she was amazing and strong and brilliant and beautiful and caring - even though she was irrefutably all of the those things - but also how just seeing her smile and the sound of her name silenced all of his pain and stress and the demons that he’d held onto his whole life.

How the stubbornness and determination that had driven him crazy and been frustrated by when they met he now saw was so powerful that it could probably command the ocean if she tried, or move mountains if she chose to. 

She deserved to know that even all of that love and respect he felt for her was still only a fraction of what she actually deserved to have. 

Unable to put it off any longer, he set off to find her, checking her cabin first, even though she was more than likely in the clinic. He was just hoping maybe he’d catch her alone first, without Harper giving him sad eyes over what she knew he was going to talk to her about.

When he found that she indeed was not in the cabin, he turned and walked to the clinic. It wasn’t a coincidence that his pulse had definitely kicked up a few paces and his neck suddenly felt warm despite the plummeting temperatures. 

Nerves. He actually felt _nervous_ to be around her, to have this conversation, like he was a boy again scared to talk to his crush. This wasn’t that though.

This was so much more. 

“Hey Harp, Clarke around?” he asked, hoping that voice didn’t betray him.

Her head popped up from the book she’d been reading by the fire. The clinic was empty, save for her. It was late afternoon, but the sun had already started going down. There was probably only a couple hours of light left. 

“No, she was acting a little off, so I told her she could be done for the day if she wanted, go on a walk, clear her mind. It’s been pretty quiet today, thankfully. Only a few runny noses, one _haknes_ patient.”

He nodded but furrowed his eyebrows a little. “Was she okay? Any idea where she went?”

“You’d know more than me these days,” she said with a smirk. 

Bellamy sighed. “Harper… ” he started, but she just held up a hand.

“I’m just joking. I’m glad you two are spending so much time together. She’s needed you.”

“Harper, you’re one of her best friends.”

Harper smiled. “True. But the way she is with you, Bell, she’s lighter, like whatever pain she is trying to hide from everyone else eases up a little when she’s around you.”

It was supposed to be a compliment, or even if it was just an acknowledgement of their unnamed connection, it still made him feel guilty for when he finally had to leave in three days' time. 

“Keep an eye on her while I’m gone, okay? She’s trying to act like she’s fine, but I think she’s having a rough time still.”

“Of course. You know you don’t have to ask that. She’s one of my best friends, like you said. She’s family. We’ve all got each other’s backs.”

“Right. Thanks,” he told her, smiling. He would always be grateful for the incredible people the universe had deemed fit to place in his life.

He gave her a quick hug, glancing down at the book she’d been looking at, and he recognized Clarke’s art almost immediately. There were plants and herbs and trees all over the pages and the handwriting looked like she’d been writing down their medicinal uses. Brilliant.

He left Harper to her studying, and started walking back towards the main village, knowing exactly where she’d go if she needed to clear her mind. 

Harper was right; he did know her.

***

All in all, Clarke was doing okay.

_Bullshit._

Well, as okay as she had expected anyway.

Just like she had thought during the night with Bellamy, when she’d been waiting for the other shoe to drop, she’d woken up with panic in her chest and the memory of being attacked in the forefront of her mind.

And she’d been having some… issues since. She was nervous and anxious. She dreaded when night fell each night and she’d have to close her eyes. The subject of her nightmares traded off though, between Dax snapping Wells’s neck and McCreary slamming her against the wall. Either she woke up in a sweat, and thrashing around as much as her injuries would allow her.

She woke up frustrated more than anything. Angry, even. She wasn’t scared, though she did notice she was far more jumpy than she used to be. No, Clarke was primarily just fucking pissed off. 

She tried to maintain a calm and stable demeanor, and for the most part it had been working, she was able to minimize the moments that sent her into a panic. Compartmentalize them to take out on a tree or something later. She wasn't trying to hide it from anyone, but didn’t want them to all focus on it either.

She couldn’t say that she wasn’t endlessly relieved, however, when Bellamy made it clear that she wasn’t fooling him, and supported her through it. He didn’t push or overprotect or make her talk about it, he just let her be, helping her in whatever way he could.

She loved him for that. 

And a million other reasons.

_That_ was something that was a foregone conclusion at that point.

It had hit her like a ton of bricks the first moment he’d held her hand in the dining hall after someone across the room dropped a bunch of plates, shattering them against the floor and inadvertently sending her into a spiral. He grabbed her fist under the table and let her channel her panic and frustration out on him. He could handle it, she knew that. He took her anxiety and her pain and made it his own so she wouldn’t be alone. 

Even through her best efforts at the beginning, she hadn’t been alone since the moment she’d arrived in Sonchahou. There was Harper being kind and patient, Octavia bringing her lunch every day that first week, Murphy making her laugh and roll her eyes and challenging her. And of course Monty, who had become better friends with her than she ever expected when she’d met him on the Ark. 

And then Bellamy. Who had been irritating and frustrating and stubborn. But he’d also always just seemed to have an instinct for what she needed and freely gave it. He’d restocked her cabin with food when she was being too hard headed to go to the dining hall. He’d held her when she found out Wells died and included him in their village’s tradition. 

He’d let her go, even when it was clear he didn’t want her to leave. He made her laugh and smile and feel more at home than she ever had, even on the Ark. He made her feel warm and cared for and valued. 

He made her feel _loved_. She was pretty sure he had feelings similar to her own. It was in his eyes every time he looked at her, in his touch when he held her hand, in his words when he was concerned or even just teasing with her. It was in his smile that made _her_ smile instantly, no matter what emotion was churning inside her threatening to wipe it off her face; his smile was stronger.

This remarkable man, both breathtaking and confounding at once, brave and bold, impulsive and caring man that she’d fallen completely in love with might actually feel something for her was completely terrifying and exhilarating all at once.

The mere thought that it was even _slightly_ possible that he looked at her as something more, made her entire chest pound and feel like it was on fire in the best possible way. 

Bellamy had also introduced to her one of her most favorite places she’d found since landing on Earth - the ocean. He’d shown her how to let the waves calm her mind and find even a morsel of peace. It didn’t compare to the peace he’d given her, but it was still beautiful and soothing. 

Which is why it was no surprise that on her walk, after one of her harder days when the demons in her mind refused to let her go, that was where she’d ended up. 

She was glad she had decided on grabbing an extra jacket before heading over, because with the wind blowing softly on the beach, it was chilly. Clarke immediately went over to the chest packed with blankets that the village kept on the beach and unpacked every blanket she could find and sat on one while wrapping up in the others. There was no one else around, so she didn’t really feel bad. If someone else came, she’d share, or head back. 

She left one of her hands out though, so she could run her fingers through the soft cold sand. She focused on every small grain she could, seeing their different colors and how they moved when her hand glided through them. And like the artist she was, it wasn’t long before a picture started forming before she knew what she was doing it. 

“Every single blanket, huh?” a voice asked behind her. “What am I supposed to do? Freeze?” She closed her eyes and smiled. She knew that voice. It was burned in her heart. 

“Well, it’s not like you don’t radiate enough heat as it is. The rest of us regular people won’t survive out in this weather without massive amounts of blankets,” she responded, quirking an eyebrow at him over her shoulder. 

He stood in far too little layers for the weather, but it didn’t look like he had even one goosebump, proving her point. His curls rustled a little in the breeze and her fingers itched to run through them. His eyes were soft but full of something that reminded her a little of that night in her cabin two weeks ago that they’d never actually spoken about since. She’d like to talk about it, though. Maybe if he knew how her arms reached out instinctively to the empty space next to her every night, seeking his warmth and steadiness, maybe she’d get the chance to be held by him again. 

“Well, I’d hardly say you are a ‘regular person’,” he said, dropping next to her on the blanket. She saw his fingers twitch in hesitation for a moment before leaning over and tugging at her covers playfully until she chuckled and rolled her eyes, relieving herself of one of the three she had wrapped around her, handing it over to him. 

“I was just kidding. I wouldn’t dream of taking one of your blankets,” he told her. “This okay?” he asked softly, surprising her by taking the blanket she’d shed and wrapping it around both of them. He stretched one of his long arms around her, resting his palm on the blanket they were sitting on on her other side so she was more or less tucked into his side. They were just _barely_ touching, a hair widths away, and something about it felt… intimate. 

That was probably due to the fact that this position put his lips right next to her ear. 

It couldn’t be healthy for her heart to beat this fast. 

Her mouth had gone dry and her finger in the sand stuttered a little bit in her drawing. And when she couldn’t find her voice to respond, she nodded her approval. He shifted just a fraction, so that if she leaned just a little to her right she’d be fully enfolded in his side, and leaned forward to see what she was drawing. 

“A lighthouse, hmm?” he asked, obviously unaware of, or ignoring, the affect his proximity was having on her body. Any closer and she would need to completely get rid of the blankets due to the heat coursing through her veins. It was a little annoying how insanely attracted to him she was. But she also never wanted it to stop, so... 

"Yeah. Just something to distract myself,” she answered honestly, looking into the distance at Sonchahou’s namesake. 

“From what?” he asked gently. He had to know what was on her mind - except for her thoughts and feelings of him - and he was giving her space, a chance to talk to him about whatever she needed without putting too much pressure on her. The sweetness of the gesture, the care with how he spoke to her evoked an involuntary whine from her throat that she desperately wished he didn’t hear over the sound of the waves crashing against the shore. 

She grew quiet, trying to figure out how to respond. “From all the thoughts I can’t seem to escape from,” she finally settled on. 

He hummed a little. “Clarke…” he started but then he startled a little and looked up. She followed his gaze and just barely visible in the twilight were two stars streaking across the sky. 

“Wow,” she remarked. “I always wondered what those would look like from the ground.” 

“You know, it's a village tradition to make a wish on falling stars. You want to make one?” 

She let out a dry chuckle. “I wouldn’t even know what to wish for. What about you?” 

It was his turn to go silent hesitating before responding. “Maybe I’ll tell you when I get back,” he told her a little sadly. 

She twisted to look at him more directly and her heart started beating faster still when she realized just how close the two of them were sitting. She could just make out the generous amount of freckles streaking across his face in the fading light. Every time they’d been this close it had been close to pitch black. In the light, even the fading light, it felt like something new, something more that she couldn’t quite grab out of the air. 

“Back from where?” she asked carefully, a little afraid of his answer. 

He sighed. “I have to leave in a few days. There’s a summit in Polis that someone from our clan is expected to attend. Luna is sick, so she asked me to go.” He turned to face the ocean. “I’ll be gone about a week, Octavia too.” 

She nodded quickly, trying to fend off the response her emotions were going to have to what she knew his answer would be to her next question. “And, these summits. Are they dangerous?” she asked, needing to know and knowing that he’d be honest with her. He always was. 

He nodded back ever so slightly. 

Clarke felt like she could barely breathe all of a sudden. She felt shivers start working their way up her spine and she started forming her hand into a fist like she’d been doing for the past couple weeks. Normally she’d reach for Bellamy’s hand, but he was the reason for this particular bout of anxiety and she wasn’t quite sure how to reconcile that. 

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’ve got you,” he exclaimed when he saw her start to shake. He folded her into his arms but she was so _angry_ at herself, at her need to be comforted all the time that she couldn’t let him hold her that time. 

She stood, letting the blankets fall away, the residual heat from being under the blanket with him still keeping her warm. He looked up at her confused, and a little hurt flashed across his features. 

But it wasn’t his fault. If it were up to her, she’d hide in his embrace the entire night. 

She shook her head. “That’s it, though. You’ve always got me. You _always_ say that and not one part of me doesn’t believe you. You’re too good. And I - I can’t even make it through two days without having some sort of flash of panic, some sort of fear. I feel so small, so - ” 

“Clarke,” he tried to interrupt firmly, standing with her. There was no pity in his tone or face, though she didn’t expect there to be. He wasn’t one to pity people. It was one of the things she loved about him. He could give someone sympathy without making them feel like he was above them. He was the one who lifted people up. He stood under them and carried their burdens as his own so they didn’t have to shoulder anything alone. But he shouldn’t have to. 

“ - _fragile_. I used to be strong, tough, resilient. I could face anything the ground threw at me and shove it right back. And now? Now I’m so tired, Bell, I’m just _so tired_. I’m so tired of being scared to fall asleep at night and no matter what I do, the nightmares just _keep coming_.” 

“Clarke,” he said, a little lower that time.

She ignored him and folded her arms, barely looking at him. “And you tell me you’re leaving and it happens again. I’m so fucking _terrified_ that something will happen to you and I can’t control it, can’t stop it. Fuck this. You shouldn’t have to feel like I’m your responsibility or burden and I’m just so fucking pissed off that I’m - ” 

“Clarke, _stop_ ,” he pleaded with her, grabbing her head with both of his hands so she’d be forced to look at him. “Please just _stop_.” 

She clamped her mouth shut, not really sure what was happening, her chest heaving with her outburst. She hadn’t planned on saying all of that, but it poured out of her mouth and it felt _good_ to get it all out. Well, almost all of it. 

“Please hear me. Please. And I don’t say please very often - ” he tried to joke. 

“ - that’s true, you’re usually very bossy,” she managed to squeak out, even though he was the farest thing from bossy unless the situation really demanded it. 

He chuckled a little and it was wholly unfair how just that small sound could calm her down. “Oh shut up. Okay, listen to me. I know it hurts, I know you feel like everything is on you to handle. I know you’re exhausted and angry. I know you. I can feel all of that.” 

He stood back a little, giving her space. His hands dropped from her face and she heard herself make a sound of protest. 

“You are not my responsibility, not like that,” he told her sternly, shaking his head. “You are not my burden. The pain you feel, the fear, it’s, fuck, sometimes it’s just a part of life. It’ll come and go in waves and it’s okay to feel all of that. It’s how you deal with it. And who you let in to see it and help you with it. Do you trust me?” 

“Bell,” she said, trying to keep her tears from spilling over. 

“Do you trust me?” 

It felt like he was asking so much more than a simple question. 

But, it required only a simple answer, and it was one of the easiest for her to give. “Yes.” 

He stepped forward again, grabbed her hands, and took a deep, slightly shaky breath. “You are the most stunning, powerful, brilliant woman I’ve ever known,” he began and his thumbs were making those damn circles across the backs of her hands again. “You are not fragile or weak, even if you feel like it right now. It’s okay to not be okay. It doesn’t make you weak. It makes you pretty fucking strong, actually,” he said, a little bit of awe in his tone and there was no possible way he actually thought all those things. 

“Bell… ” she breathed and when she looked up at him instinctively, they were so close, there was barely any space between them. “How could you possibly think any of that?” she whispered, closing her eyes and breathing him in. 

The next thing she knew, his lips were at her ear. “How could I not?” his whispered, steady and sure and she could feel his lips ghost across the shell of her ear and across her jawline as he pulled back. She didn’t dare move, afraid she would shatter the moment if she did. Clarke was sure he could feel her heart about to explode out her chest. There was no way he couldn’t hear it pounding for him. 

One of her hands twisted out of his and she placed it lightly on his chest, feeling like she could allow herself this moment of boldness. She wanted to know if his heart was pounding like hers was. If he was just as affected by her as she was by him. His now empty hand came up to wrap around her back and if it was at all possible for them to get closer still, he tugged her in, so close she could barely fit her hand on his chest between them. 

Her hand on his chest, where his heart pounded under her palm with the strength of a thousand horses, in harmony with her own. 

She looked up from staring at her hand to his eyes, which were already staring at her, dark and searching. She bit her lip and she saw his eyes flash down to the movement before returning her gaze again. 

“What did you wish for?” she asked again, barely audible, but she knew he’d hear her. 

He squeezed the hand of hers he was still holding. “I’ll tell you when I get back,” he said just as softly. She whined a little again and she really was going to have to watch that because she knew he definitely heard it that time when she noticed the corner of his mouth twitch up a little trying not to smirk. “Hey, look at it like this. It’ll be my promise to you. That I’ll come back,” he assured her. And she knew he couldn’t - shouldn’t - make promises like that. That the life they led on the ground didn’t always lend itself to survival. 

But _life was about more than just surviving_ , so she let him make the promise anyway. 

She nodded at him, and they stood like that a breath longer before he breathed deep, stepping back and she swore her heart tried to follow after, like it hurt to be so far after being so close. 

“Come on, there’s someone I want you to meet,” he told her, still grasping one of her hands. But her jaw still buzzed with the electricity his lips had left behind. 

***

Bellamy didn’t think he’d ever exercised that amount of self-control, _ever_. Stepping back from her, away from every single thing that he’d seen every time he closed his eyes lately, _without_ kissing her senseless was a miracle.

Because at that moment, his entire body thrummed for it; wanted to know exactly what her lips felt like, tasted like. How her body would move against his.

And he knew it was risky, making that promise to her and he knew that if something happened and he didn’t make it back, it would hurt her. But he had to give her hope and wanted to give her something to focus on. Some assurance that she could keep with her. 

He spent as long as he could stand just holding her, memorizing the way her body fit with his, the way her waist felt on his hand, the way their cheeks felt against each other as he whispered in her ear. It was torture of the sweetest kind. 

And the little noise she made in the back of her throat as he pulled away would remain forever seared in his memory. 

She knew. She had to. He was terrified at first, when she put her hand on his chest. He knew instantly what she was doing and what she would feel. His heart was hammering away like a stampede, as it did more often than not around her. He knew that she would realize that he was just as nervous, just as affected by her proximity as she was. He’d been trying to hide it for what felt like forever that he almost pulled back, almost tried to stop her. 

But why shouldn’t she know? He wanted her to know. If he wasn’t going to say it outright yet, she should at least get to know what she was doing to him.

And he finally more than just suspected, finally let himself hope that she might feel the way he did.

She certainly wasn’t pushing him away. He’d made sure of that before every move he made, intentionally going slow and careful, giving her a chance to back away. 

After they parted, they went to fold up the blankets for whoever needed them next and place them back in the chest. Without any discussion or hesitation about it, they joined hands again and he started leading her down the beach. 

“So are you going to tell me where we’re going? This is the part where you murder me isn’t it?” she teased. He rolled his eyes at her and boldly put her hand up to his lips to kiss her knuckles, and was pleased when it elicited a small smile from her. He would never stop being entranced with the sight of her smiling. 

He was astonished over how she saw herself. It broke every last piece of his heart to hear her devalue herself. Because she was the complete opposite of everything she had said. She wasn’t a burden, or weak. There weren’t enough words in either of the languages he spoke to describe just how untrue that was. 

“No, I’m not going to murder you. You’d see it coming if I tried right now anyway,” he joked back. “I’m taking you to meet my mother. I told her I’d have dinner with her tonight and I want you to come with me.”

“Your… your mother?” she asked and he couldn’t quite read her tone. 

He stopped walking and used their intertwined hands to tug her closer. He brushed back a stray curl off her face, tucking it behind her ear. “Yeah. Is that okay? I guess I should’ve asked first… ”

“No!” she said a little abruptly before clearly her throat a little. “No, it’s… I’m… of course it’s fine. More than fine. I just - is that going to be okay with her? I mean, I know she doesn’t usually…” she winced a little like she was struggling with what to say.

“She’s going to love you. Clarke, you’re…” he trailed, licking moisture back into his lips, a move her eyes flashed to. “You’re important… to me. She would want to meet you,” he decided to finish with, though it wasn’t the full scope of everything he wanted to say. 

Clarke stared at him a few more moments before stepping forward and tugging him along towards the lighthouse. “Well, then… _hoz op_ , Bell. We don’t want to be late, that’s rude,” she said with a smirk. He chuckled and shook his head at her and they resumed their walk without any more discussion. 

When they got to the lighthouse, she craned her neck upwards. “It’s so tall,” she marveled.

“It is. They have to be able to see the signal fire at the top far out in the ocean,” he told her, pointing out in the ocean towards the direction of Luna’s village. 

“Living in the middle of the ocean, that’s gotta be so strange. Doesn’t she ever feel trapped?”

He laughed a little. “Actually, it makes her feel freer. You should see her after she’s been landlocked for more than a few days, she gets really cranky.”

“You’ve known her for a long time?”

“She’s older than I am, by like 12 years? But yeah, I grew up alongside her. We were good friends. She’s a good, peaceful leader. She took over leadership after the previous leader passed. She was supposed to fight in the conclave for Commander after the previous Commander, Heda Lexa was killed in battle. But she doesn’t like violence, couldn’t stand to take that many lives, so she abstained from the competition. Then Ontari won. I don't think anyone expected her to win, but she did and we’ve been ruled by Azgeda ever since,” he told her, an edge of bitterness to his tone. 

Clarke hummed a little, processing through the information he’d just given her. He probably should’ve explained their history months ago, but he was always forgetting that she was still pretty new to the ground. She felt like such an intricate part of their village it felt weird to think she’d only been there for a few months. Plus, there was always something a little unsettling about how it had all gone. He understood why Luna had left the Conclave, but Ontari was brutal, and dark, and most clans were terrified of her. 

“You ready?” he asked after the explanation, giving her hand a squeeze.

She nodded so he guided her around the other side of the lighthouse to where the Keeper’s quarters were. It wasn’t a big place, the living room not able to fit more than a handful of people comfortably, but he knew his mother preferred it that way. She was a friendly, loving person, but she enjoyed the peace and quiet that came from living all the way out here. 

They stepped up to the door and he heard the unmistakable shake of laughter from his sister. She must’ve gotten wind that he was headed up here and wanted to join them. He turned the knob and stepped inside first, Clarke just behind him. 

“Mom?”

He looked around the corner and sure enough, there his sister sat at the table, next to Murphy, who had apparently also decided to join. He didn’t see his mother before he felt her, a light smack to his shoulder. 

“Bellamy Blake! _You don’t come up for almost a whole month? And what exactly has been occupying your time so much, son?_ ” she chided him in Trig. He could hear in her tone that she wasn’t actually mad, she hardly ever was, but she still wasn’t wrong. It had been much longer than normal between visits.

“Ooh… someone’s in trouble… ” Murphy teased, and Bellamy shot him a glare.

“I missed you too, Mom,” he told her, smiling and wrapping his free arm around her, not letting go of Clarke still. “You just like when she’s lecturing someone other than you, Murph.”

“It’s much more fun that way,” he agreed. 

“Boys,” his mother warned automatically. 

He tugged a little on the hand holding Clarke’s as it seemed no one had noticed yet that she was with him. As soon as she came around his body to stand in front instead of behind him, he saw both Octavia and Murphy’s eyes widen and they exchanged a look. Clarke’s face had gone pink, so he squeezed her hand encouragingly. She leaned her back into his chest a little in response. He had to resist the urge to put his other hand on her waist.

“Clarke!” O exclaimed and got up to come give her a hug. “I’m so glad you’re here,” he heard his sister tell her.

“Uh, me too,” Clarke responded, chuckling nervously.

“Ah. _So this is the infamous skaigada_ Murphy _and_ Octavia _have told me all about,_ ” his mother continued in Trig. He knew Clarke wouldn’t catch much of that except the names, but she must’ve gleamed enough of the meaning because if it were possible for her cheeks to get even _more_ pink, they definitely did.

“English, Mom. This is Clarke. She’s not a _skaigada_ , though, not anymore. She’s a part of our people now. Clarke, this is Aurora, my mother.”

Clarke took a deep breath and stepped forward. Her hand left his to extend towards his mother, and he let it drift to her back instead of withdrawing it completely. “It’s nice to meet you.”

Aurora looked at her with a small smile for only a moment before stepping forward and wrapping her arms around Clarke. The sight put a warmth in his heart that he hadn’t been expecting. 

“It is so wonderful to meet you, Clarke. I’ve heard such lovely things about you,” she said, pulling back without removing her arms from Clarke completely, gripping her at the elbows. Then she lowered her voice, presumably to prevent Bellamy from overhearing, but he did anyway. “I can see why my son is so smitten with you,” she told her, winking.

“Mom!” he exclaimed, a little embarrassed, considering the only way she would have known that was if his sister and Murphy were gossiping about it to her behind his back. “I’m sorry,” he said to Clarke, though he wasn’t entirely sure what he was apologizing for, since it wasn’t exactly a lie.

“Oh please, Bellamy. What I have said about always being honest?” she waved him off, going back to the kitchen. It was his turn to turn red, running a hand through his hair nervously and he could hear O and Murphy’s snickers. He was going to kill them. “Clarke, do you like venison?” she called.

When he finally forced himself to look at her, he saw her biting her lip trying to keep from laughing. 

“I’ve only had it here in the village, but yes, it’s delicious,” Clarke called back and he could hear her tone wavering. She stepped a little closer to him, lowering her voice. “Why _are_ you sorry? Was it untrue?” she challenged, an eyebrow raised.

He chuckled, not really sure how exactly to respond. He felt like he was a teenager again, bringing a girl home to meet his mother and being teased by his siblings and couldn’t they all just be fucking _adults_ about this? Must they tease him?

“Clarke, honey, why don’t you come in here and help me out?” his mother called. Clarke took another glance at him, smiling, before walking off towards the kitchen, not waiting to hear his answer.

He was pretty sure she already knew his answer anyway. 

When he turned back to the table, O and Murphy had broken out into full on roaring laughter. He ran both hands through his hair again before striding over to them and smacking Murphy in the back of the head and picking up a roll off the table to throw at O. 

“The fuck you two?” he whispered harshly.

“Language, honey!” his mother called and he’d almost forgotten how good her hearing was.

“Well, _you_ weren’t telling her,” Murphy pointed out. 

He’d only been up here three times since Clarke had gotten to the village and the first two times had been when they were still always fighting or just tolerant of each other and the third he’d still been trying to figure out how he felt about her. 

“I tried not to, I really did, but Bell, you know Mom,” Octavia tried to explain between fits of laughter, rubbing tears out of her eyes. “I came up here after the bonfire and she asked what was new, how the ceremony had been and what all the commotion had been about when Clarke first got here and so I told her about Clarke and how she’d had a hard time at first, but that she was awesome. She asked how _you_ were handling it, as you know, the leader, and I… ” 

“Totally spilled the beans,” Murphy finished for her. Octavia shoved him.

“No! I must’ve made a face though because she guessed it pretty quick,” she said, cringing and ducking her head. 

“Whatever, it’s fine. It’s not like I’m _really_ that embarrassed or anything. I just wasn’t expecting it and… I haven’t exactly told _Clarke_ how I feel about her yet.”

Murphy and Octavia both gave him a look. 

“I will, though, just... when I get back. I don’t want to overwhelm her right before I leave.”

“Yes, because I hear being in love is _so awful_ ,” Murphy mocked, rolling his eyes.

Clarke and his mom came back to the table then, both carrying plates full of food. Octavia put a hand on his arm and gave him a reassuring smile. He nodded at her and took the dishes from his mother, helping to finish getting everything set up and ready. 

They sat down, gave thanks, and dug in. They spent the rest of dinner laughing and telling stories, answering questions Clarke might have had that they’d never answered, and answering some questions of their own, mostly trying to see who could tell the most obnoxious story from their childhood. Clarke even followed with a few of her and Wells’ childhood on the Ark.

It was a little startling how easy it was to integrate her into this, like she’d always been here. It had been the same way when Octavia had brought Lincoln for the first time too. Natural and simple. His mother didn’t say anything else that might indicate his feelings for Clarke anymore, of which he was thankful.

After dinner, though, Octavia knocked a vase off the table behind her in the middle of waving her arms during a story and Clarke froze.

“Shit! Sorry,” O apologized and Clarke closed her eyes and gripped her leg under the table. Bellamy’s eyes snapped to her and he reached for her. She met him halfway, probably sensing what he was doing and held on to him tightly. 

A shudder ran through her and he saw his mother watching her carefully. Octavia was busy picking up the glass off the floor, but he knew Murphy had noticed Clarke as well. 

Once her shoulders started to relax and she opened her eyes again, she cleared her throat, clearly embarrassed and Bellamy remembered what she had told him on the beach. “Hey, O, need some help?” she asked his sister.

“Uh, yeah, thanks Clarke,” Octavia said hesitantly. She may not have seen this particular freeze, but he knew she’d noticed a few of them over the last couple weeks. “Dust pan is over there,” pointing.

Clarke got up, letting go of his hand to go help her. Murphy took a bite quietly and his mother looked at Bellamy inquisitively. He gave her a small smile and he saw Aurora lift her head a little in acknowledgement. 

“Well, if you’d finally burn some of these little guys Aurora, maybe butterfingers over here wouldn’t’ve knocked it down,” Murphy tried, lightening up the moment with a joke about the little wood figures that littered practically every surface. 

“You know I love those things, Murphy, hush up,” his mother said, engaging. 

Murphy sighed dramatically. “Well, you can burn all of mine, if you’re looking for permission.”

“I was not,” she said back, narrowing her eyes. “And you’d better not even try to do it behind my back John Murphy, or so help me. I love everything my children have made.”

Murphy raised his hands in surrender.

“You make them too, Murphy?” Clarke asked once she sat down. “I knew Octavia did, she made me a little monkey when I first got here.”

Bellamy looked at her and cleared his throat a little, automatically grabbing at her hand again, this time just because he knew he could. “We all do, actually. Mom taught us when we were younger, like 10, 11?”

“All three of you were such troublemakers,” she teased, sighing, and they all groaned at her except Clarke, who giggled a little. “Well, you were. I had to channel all of that energy somewhere. They’d sit together next to the fireplace as children and whittle little animals and people and trees and flowers. It got to be a competition, who could whittle with the most detail.” she shrugged. Bellamy had even got pretty good at it too, but almost always let Octavia win. 

She turned more towards Clarke. “Once I taught them, they never stopped and I love each and every one so I keep them around. Sometimes you just need something to still your mind or keep your hands busy.”

Clarke smiled at her, probably knowing exactly what she was talking about. His mother was many things, but subtly had never been her strong suit, no matter how hard she tried. “That’s how I feel about art. I love to draw,” Clarke told her. 

“Oh!” his mother exclaimed and he chuckled at her enthusiasm, knowing that it was completely genuine. “I would love to see some of your drawings sometime! I know these two are headed out in a few days, but I want you to know you are welcome out here anytime. Especially if my son is going to keep me waiting so long - ” she swatted at him again. “ - I’d love some company.”

“I’m still going to be here! What am I?” Murphy said, pretending to be offended.

“Oh stop. You know I love you.”

Murphy ducked his head a little.

They finally all got up to leave, Aurora clutching at Clarke tightly. Then she and Murphy stepped out so he and O could say goodbye since this would be their last chance before they left.

Their mother wrapped her small arms around the two of them. “Now you two protect each other. Bellamy, watch out - ”

“ - for my sister, I know, Mom. I always do.”

She nodded sharply. “ _Be safe, both of you. You know Azgeda has made the entire territory more volatile and I don’t want you two caught up in anything. I love you, my children,_ ” she told them in Trig. She was a small woman, but the force behind her love and her hugs were nothing short of mighty. 

They walked outside and met up with Murphy and Clarke.

“Bet I can beat you back to the village,” Octavia taunted Murphy. He knew she was only doing it to give him and Clarke privacy, as she got her subtly from their mother. 

“You may be able to kick my ass seven ways to next week, but I beat you in speed _every time_ little Blake.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“ _Little_ Blake,” he taunted, taking off. 

“You’re such a child!” she shouted at him. “And a cheater! We hadn’t started yet! Murphy!” She ran after him trying to catch up and he saw Clarke watching them with amusement.

“I’ve never seen any of you like that. It was sweet,” she said, once they started walking towards the village.

“Yeah, sweet is one word for it,” he mumbled. “Did you have fun?”

“I did. It was… warm. Loving. Your mother is wonderful,” she gushed, grabbing his hand and intertwining their fingers as they walked along the shoreline.

“She is,” he agreed, chuckling a little. “You doing okay?” he asked tentatively.

“Hmm, yeah. I hate that I can’t always predict when it happens,” she answered, knowing what he was referring to.

“My mom gets like that sometimes. Not as often anymore, but sometimes. You can take her up on her offer, you know? Go see her, she’s really great to talk to.”

“I probably will.”

They came to the junction between the paths that went to their separate cabins. “Walk you home?” he asked.

She bit her lip for a moment, before answering and he hoped he hadn’t overstepped or that she thought he was implying anything. His heart was still thrumming from earlier and he wondered if she had picked up on it. 

“Actually, do you… would it be okay - ” she asked, staring down the path to his cabin, not meeting his eyes, but he saw a blush creeping up her neck even in the darkness. “You know what? Nevermind, it’s stupid. No, I can walk myself. Thanks for dinner.” She turned to start heading towards her cabin. 

He suddenly realized what it was she was going to ask and he lunged out to grab her hand again. “Clarke - ”

“Yeah?” she asked, still not meeting his eyes.

“Do you… would you… ” he stammered along, not doing much better than she was at spitting the words out. He took a deep breath. “You can stay with me, if you want?” he finally asked, praying he wasn’t wrong about what it was she had been considering.

She snapped her eyes to his and he saw relief flood her features. “You sure that’s okay? I just… don’t feel like fighting my dreams alone tonight.”

“Then let me help you.”

“Okay.”

He smiled, tugging her closer and ducked down to kiss her hand lightly, relishing a little in the warmth of her skin. They walked the rest of the way to his cabin quietly. They walked in and he realized how much he’d been ignoring how cold it’d gotten. He got to work immediately on a fire. Thankfully, even though his cabin was larger than most, it wouldn’t take too long to warm the room. Still, he noticed a shiver wrack Clarke’s body.

“It shouldn’t take too long to get the place warmed up. You can grab a blanket out of the chest if you want,” he told her.

“I’m okay, I don’t need anything.”

He rolled his eyes at her stubbornness. “Clarke, I can hear your teeth chattering from all the way over here. Grab a jacket of mine at least, okay?” 

He could see her out of the corner of his eyes inch towards the bed hesitantly before grabbing the jacket he’d left there earlier. She just held it in her arms though, instead of putting it on. “Forget how to put on a jacket?” he asked. 

She let out a breath like she’d been holding onto it. “Very funny,” she responded with a small smile. But she stubbornly waited until he was done with the fire. 

Once he’d gotten the fire roaring, he walked over to her, taking the jacket from her arms gently and threw it back on the bed. He placed his hand on her shoulders, running them up and down her arms to make some of the shivers still. He walked over to his drawers, his pulse picking up from even just the idea that he might get to hold her in his arms again. He pulled out one of his long sleeve thermals and a pair of sweats. “Here. You can wear this, unless you’re happy with what you’re in?” 

“No, that’s great, thanks.”

“Okay, I’ll just… ” he trailed off, heading back to the fire to throw another log on it even though it didn’t really need it. “I’ll step out while you change.” 

“Bell, it doesn’t really matter to me, you can stay.”

He was already trying not to focus on what her wearing his clothes was going to do to him and he didn’t need the actual image of her _without_ clothes on to go with the one he had to actively keep his mind from wandering to every day already. “No, I don’t think I can… it, uh, matters to me,” he muttered, walking out the door, but not before glancing back to catch the blush that had started blooming on her cheeks. 

Once they were both changed, they climbed into bed a little awkwardly. They laid there for a minute before she huffed a little and scooted closer to him, laying on her side facing him. 

He rolled on his side to face her as well, startled with how close she had actually gotten. She smiled and shook her head and grabbed one of his arms to drape across her, his hand landing on the small of her back. He tugged at her a little until she was close enough that their legs could tangle together if they shifted. He’d been right, it was almost too much to have seen the way his oversized clothes hung off her body, but now he got to _feel_ the way the soft fabric fit between her skin and his hand.

“How is it you’re this warm?” she asked, chuckling. 

He responded with a chuckle of his own. “It’s not like I did something to make myself this way… I’ve just always been hot,” he said cheekily, earning him a small smack to his chest. 

“You think you’re so funny… ” she trailed off. “You know, I don’t think I’ve ever actually been in your cabin.”

“It looks like all the others, just a little bigger. O stayed here with me after I moved in until she married Lincoln last year.”

She hummed in acknowledgement. “Lots of books in here..." she teased. "And it smells different than all the others.” He quirked an eyebrow, causing her to backpedal immediately. “No! That’s not what I meant,” she said, shaking her head. “I just mention it because it reminded me of something. After we fought my first time at the dining hall, that night, my cabin smelled just like this. It’s how I knew you were the one who refilled my cabin’s food supplies.” She adjusted her head on the pillow and somehow she ended up even closer, making him flex his fingers against her back a little and he let his thumb wander in circles over her spine. “Why did you do that? You hated me.”

He lifted his arm to brush back that curl that seemed to insist on not staying in place, letting his fingers run a little across her cheek, before resuming his place at her back. “Well, I couldn’t let you just starve. And… ” He was walking a precarious line and was having a hard time finding his words. “I never hated you, I hated the situation. I hated that you hated me _so_ much. And yeah,” he let out a breathy chuckle. “Yeah you drove me a little crazy but you were in an awful position and I don’t know if you’ve noticed, I’m a little stubborn as well,” she let out a chuckle of her own at that. “And I didn’t trust you yet, so I kept you at a distance. But I never hated you.”

She bit at her lip again and this time, he allowed himself to reach over and tug it out, smirking at her. “I don’t think it’s possible for me to hate you,” he heard himself whisper and that dangerous line just kept getting closer. If he didn’t watch it, he’d tumble right over it and he wasn’t sure there would be any going back.

Not that he didn’t firmly believe it was better on the other side of it.

“Bell…” she breathed.

“I like it when you call me that,” he told her and really he might as well just blow up the line at this point. Her eyebrows shot up. “Only the people I’m closest to call me that and I… like the way you say it.”

She hummed a little and reached a hand out, placing it on his cheek. His eyes slid shut, trying to memorize the way her palm seemed fit perfectly against the curve of his cheekbone, the way her fingertips just barely grazed his hairline.

“We are pretty close,” she teased, knocking her knee with his to prove her point. 

“Careful, I might get used to having you here,” he told her honestly.

“I think I might already be used to it,” she said softly and the small smile that she had on her face when he opened his eyes looked like it was one that finally reached her eyes for the first time in a while, lighting them up the blues of her irises despite the darkness. She let her hand drop to his chest. 

“That’s…” he struggled, trying to find the right thing to say. “Me too,” he settled for, agreeing with her. “You about ready to get some sleep?”

She didn’t respond, just turned on her back and his hand slid around to rest on her stomach. He almost removed it, but she placed her own on top of his, holding it in place as if she could read his thoughts. Since he was still on his side, his head was right at her shoulder and even just an inch forward and he’d be able to kiss her shoulder. Maybe he would.

“I can tell you’re worried. You want to talk about it?”

She glanced quickly at him before returning to stare up at the ceiling. “Not really. I just want to sleep and I’m so tired of my mind not letting me. It’s not always McCreary, which would be the more obvious nightmare but it’s also Wells and it’s just exhausting. I still… I still feel so bad that I wasn’t there when he died, that he died trying to get to me. That he even came down to the ground at all. He should’ve stayed on the Ark.”

Bellamy hummed a little and rested his lips on her shoulder, not kissing it exactly, just trying to connect. “You remember when you told me that you’d tell me however many times I needed to hear that you getting attacked or my mother wasn’t my fault?”

She nodded. “Well, you have a tendency to make everything and everyone your responsibility.”

“They are though,” he pointed out.

“But not in that way. Every bad thing that happens is not your fault or your burden to carry.”

“We’re getting off topic here,” he noted.

“You brought it up.”

He huffed. “Anyway, I will do that same thing for you. Wells dying was awful, but it was not your fault. His decisions are his own. He knew the risk he was taking and decided you were worth it. I can’t say I disagree. But his death is not on your hands.” 

She scoffed. “We’re quite a pair, huh?”

He smiled against her shoulder at the thought of them being a pair of _anything_. “I guess we are. At least we’re not alone.”

“I like the sound of that.”

“Go to sleep, Clarke. I’m not going anywhere.”

She nodded and tilted her head so it rested on top of his and then he finally let himself kiss her shoulder, lightly, but intentionally. She let out a long breath. “Night, Bell.”

“Night, Princess.”

He made himself stay awake until her breathing evened out, committing to his memory the feel of her, of them, just like this. His bed had never been more comfortable than it was at that moment, and he never dreamed that they’d fit so perfectly together like they did. She smelled like a combination of two of them and it was intoxicating. He kissed her shoulder one last time before allowing himself to drift off, already dreading the morning when they’d have to go separate ways.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I don't even know what to say as an end note. I'm sorry? You're welcome? I don't know. But I do know I was really excited to show this one to you all, so I hope you enjoyed it! 
> 
> Any ideas on this mystery trip of Bellamy's? And yay Aurora! She was fun to get to write.
> 
> Come check out the moodboard that grounderkingbellamy so awesomely made for this fic [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488)!
> 
> I am going to try to get the next up sometime Saturday!
> 
> Stay safe and healthy everyone!! ❤


	15. Chapter 15

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone! 
> 
> I'm so glad you seemed to enjoy the last chapter, I really enjoyed writing and sharing it with you all! I know that this slow burn is probably slower than you thought or wanted it to be, and I understand if it's too slow for you, I really do. But it's about the WHOLE story and how they get to their happy ending, no matter what gets thrown at them, so I just want to take a moment to thank those that are willing to stick it out (because it IS coming) AND to those that gave it a shot but decided it wasn't for them. I really appreciate every single soul that read even a little bit of this. Love and health to all of you! ❤
> 
> That being said, all I have to say about this one is... here we go!

This time, Clarke felt differently when she woke up than she had the last time they’d slept in the same bed. Sure, she was still way too warm, but that was where the similarities began and ended. There was no pain and soreness from her injuries, no residual fear from her nightmares, no indecisiveness as to whether she should move or stay. 

She finally cracked her eyes open, aware that Bellamy was still fast asleep at her back. They’d shifted at some point during the night, and were now slotted completely up against each other. One arm was under her pillow, one draped over her waist and ran up the length of her torso with his hand up by her face, her own arms wrapped around his, one of her hands interlaced fingers with his. His nose was buried into her neck and she could feel his even breaths against her back.

Despite the fact that they were pressed together already, she shifted a little more into him, burrowing her nose into her pillow, inhaling the scent of the two of them in the fabric. Obviously, being in his bed, his smell was the more dominant of the two, but her lavender soap Harper had given her a couple weeks back was mixed in now. 

As soon as she started moving, he tightened his arm, like he was subconsciously afraid she’d try to leave. She smiled into their hands, at the idea that maybe he didn’t want to let her go any more than she wanted him to. 

She was so completely in love with him, it was incredibly frightening and exciting all at once. Her heart picked up it’s pace at remembering just how close they’d come to kissing the night before, how badly she’d wanted it that she almost closed the very small gap between their lips.

But he was leaving in three days for a week and she was terrified of something happening to him. Or to Octavia. She’d found a family, friends. And now that she had them, she didn't want to let them go. She tried to silence the demons in her that told her everyone that had died around her was a product of being close to her, that she wasn’t some harbinger of death. Bellamy’s whispered assurances last night coursed through her, bringing calm and peace to her soul and she tried to hold onto it.

“Stop thinking so loud. I’m trying to sleep here,” he mumbled into her hair.

She chuckled a little. “I can’t help it. I’m a little trapped.”

“You could get out if you want to,” he teased, starting to pull his arm back away from her.

“No!” she said a little too eagerly. “I’ll think quieter. Put your arm back.”

It was his turn to chuckle then and she felt the rumble all the way down into his chest from her back. She felt him lift his head and kiss the spot on her shoulder that he had the night before, like the feel of his lips weren’t already imprinted in her skin. “Good morning,” he told her softly.

“Fuck your bed is so warm and comfortable, how do you ever actually talk yourself into getting up in the morning?”

“Well, part of it is that I have a village to run.” 

“And the other part?” she asked, rolling onto her back. He stayed on his side though and ended up hovering over her a little. She was sure she looked like a crazy mess, but of course even his tousled hair and squinty eyes and rough voice somehow made her even more attracted to him.

“The other part is that I wake up alone. It’s not hard to get out of bed when you’ve got no reason to stay,” he said, insinuation clear and his voice low and slurred a little sleep.

She inhaled sharply, a regular thing lately for her when he said things like that. Things that were right on edge of something, something raw and honest and it thrilled her. It flipped her stomach and warmed her chest and stirred in her way down low. She knew he at least wanted to wait until he got back, but she wondered if he knew the effect he had on her.

“You can’t say things like that,” she said, trying to sound stern but it must not have worked, because all he did was smile at her, which was not helping her heart pound any less. 

“Why not?”

“Because it makes me think that it means something that it might not mean.”

“Who says that it doesn’t mean what you think it does?”

“Bellamy!”

“Clarke!” he mocked. She narrowed her eyes at him. He smiled in response. 

He was absolutely infuriating. 

“Come on, let’s get some breakfast. I’ve got a lot of stuff to get ready for the trip the day after tomorrow. And I think you’ve got a book to finish.”

“You saw my medical book?” she asked, not angry, of course he could look if he wanted, more just curious.

“Yeah Harper was looking through it when I was trying to find you last night. I just happened to see some unfinished entries,” he said shrugging and finally removing himself from her side. The cold hit her instantly and she burrowed back under the blankets. “I want those done by the time I get back,” he ordered playfully.

She threw a pillow at him. “You’re so annoying.”

He grinned and went to grab some clothes. “You might want to get a move on. Village will start filling up with people headed to breakfast and what will people think seeing you leave my cabin in the early morning hours dressed in my clothes?” he taunted.

She groaned loudly. He had a point, even if he was just joking. They’d be the subject of gossip for _weeks_ , even though nothing of that nature had technically happened. She didn’t really care about what people thought or talked about her, but she knew it might not be great for Bellamy, considering he was the leader of the village and they hadn’t really talked about whatever this was yet. How were they supposed to answer questions they hadn’t even asked each other yet?

But then, a part of her knew what they were, even if they hadn’t put a name to it. She could feel in her heart that he loved her and they were intimate and physical with the other even if their lips hadn’t touched yet. 

And definitely if she was going to go see Aurora again while he was gone, which she was planning on doing, any gossip that she would have heard might get a little awkward. She knew Aurora stayed mostly out of touch with things, but she might get it out of Murphy since he seemed to lack a filter.

She dragged herself out of bed and put her boots and jacket on, bundling up the rest of her clothes in her arms. She turned to leave, to go get a change of clothes at her cabin before breakfast, but he stepped forward to place a hand gently on her elbow. 

“Hey,” he started and she turned her head to look up at him. “I wanted to let you know, I plan to make the play for Miller and Jasper while I’m in Polis. If all the clan delegates will be there, it’ll be my best shot to make the case for them, and get permission to take them home. If they deny my request, we’ll explore other options once I’m back.”

She felt tears brimming in her eyes. They hadn’t had a good opportunity to talk about when he planned to ask for them over the past few weeks since she’d been back in the village, and she was touched that he had included them in his plans.

“Thank you,” she told him earnestly, reaching out to grab his hand.

“Of course, they’re friends of yours, Monty told me that Jasper is like his brother, so I want to find a way to free them from Finn.” He shifted a little, gazing down at their joined hands. “I’ll, uh, see you later, okay? Have a good day,” he finished, biting his lip and looking a little nervous, like he wasn’t sure how to leave things after they had just been pressed so closely together. 

“You too,” she told him, wanting to relieve his anxiety. She stretched up on her tiptoes to kiss his cheek. “Thanks for last night. That was probably the best night sleep I’ve gotten in a while,” she told him, and it was true. She’d still had nightmares, but they weren’t debilitating anymore. She’d even had a good dream too, of her and Wells when they were kids.

“Me too… you’re uh, welcome to come back anytime,” he stammered, cheeks turning pink. 

She smiled at him, feeling more alive than she had even yesterday. She still had a long way to go to finish healing, to stop feeling so angry and anxious constantly, but she finally felt like she might have hope that she would one day. 

That was one of the many reasons she loved him; he gave her _hope_.

“I’ll see you tonight then?” she asked simply, implication plain. He visibly relaxed at her inquiry, nodding but not saying anything, a small smile creeping its way onto his lips. 

Lips she’d hopefully be kissing soon.

As she walked back to her cabin, she could still feel his warm arms wrapped around her and she was grateful she’d get to have them around her again soon.

\------------------------

The days passed too quickly and Clarke didn’t get to spend as much time with Bellamy as she’d like to; he and Octavia were too busy preparing and packing for their trip. Ontari had given no indication of what the summit was for, so they had to go over the different scenarios and possible issues they might run into. She barely even saw him for meals, they’d dart in to grab something and head back to the hall for more meetings and strategy sessions.

Bellamy also had to plan for his absence in Sonchahou. Lincoln and Anya would be looking after things and any residents that had problems or issues would defer to them during the time he was gone. And of course, Bellamy didn’t want to leave anything undone for those two to have to deal with, so he was busy pretty much from sun up to sun down. 

But sun down is when he would be hers. He was hers in the way that he would collapse next to her and curl around her body and place kisses on her shoulder, which he had more freely been giving those two more nights she got with him. He was hers in the way he’d breathe deeply when he finally walked into his cabin at night, like the air around filled his lungs in a way the air outside couldn’t. He’d smile at her when he entered, joining her as she sat propped up on his bed or by the fireplace reading one of his dozens of books littering the shelves in his cabin.

And because it seemed like both of them were starved for the other by the time they ended up in bed, they never went to sleep right away. They’d swap stories about their days and their childhoods and lifestyles. He was utterly fascinated with the way things were done on the Ark, and she reveled in telling him all about her parents and family. She’d even told him stories about Wells, which he listened to with rapt attention, squeezing her hand and supporting her when the memories got to be too much. But he seemed to share in her excitement - and her anxiety - over the possibility of the Ark coming down to the ground in a couple months.

He told her about how rebellious he’d been as a child, but how he had raised his sister when his mother had been looked down and given the worst, longest jobs in the village. He talked about how when Luna had taken over, that awful time finally ended. He told her how controversial that change had been, since a lot of the villagers weren’t happy that she abandoned the conclave to Ontari. But once they saw how she led, with peace instead of anger like the previous leader did, the clan thrived.

He sounded a little sad when he talked about it too though. Like he respected and loved Luna, but that he didn’t entirely disagree with their disappointment about letting Ontari take the Flame either. 

But now it was the morning that he and Octavia were set to leave. Both of them had been silent as they got ready to head to the gate to see the group off. In addition to Bellamy and Octavia, David and one other warrior were going with them. 

Clarke opened the door, but he asked her to wait. When she turned to find out what she had forgotten, he made three long strides towards her and wrapped her in his arms, which was quickly rivaling the beach to become her favorite place to be. She met his embrace with equal fervor, holding on as tight as she could with his sword in the way at his back.

“Please be safe,” she whispered. “I… I can’t lose you too.”

“I’ll do my best,” he responded with a whisper of his own. “Everything is going to be fine. I’ve got Octavia. No one would dare mess with me with her standing next to me,” he tried to joke, but it fell a little short. She just nodded. “Okay, let’s go. We shouldn’t be late. Not really a great look for a leader,” he smirked. 

They walked up to the gate hand in hand, not really caring if anyone saw them anymore, and when she saw O, she ran over to give the girl a hug of her own, despite the swords at her back like her brother. Lincoln stood next to them, letting them have their moment. Octavia squeezed her tightly. Clarke had come to really love Octavia. Her passion and fire, her gentle heart and her contagious laughter. Clarke would be devastated if anything happened to her too.

“Please take care of each other,” she pleaded in O’s ear. 

Octavia pulled back to look her in the eye, looking a little like the way Clarke had first seen her, warpaint on her face and steel in her eyes. “We’re going to be fine. We’ve totally got this,” she shrugged off.

“Oh I know you do. But still, you know I love you, right?” she told her. 

“Yeah, Clarke I know that. Love you too,” she said with a grin. “But does he?” she asked, nodding back to her brother, who was saying goodbye to Murphy.

She let her gaze linger on him for a moment, how different he looked from the gentle, warm man she’d woken up with the past few mornings. He looked like a warrior, tall and imposing, strong. Clarke loved every version of him. “I think so... I hope so,” she settled on. 

Octavia just hummed in response. 

They clasped arms and parted. The group assembled and were just about to head out before she bit her lip and decided she had to say one last thing. She tugged on him and wrapped her arms around his neck, not caring who was watching. 

Let them see what he meant to her. 

“Clarke? Wha - ”

“Come back to me, okay? Just - come back... to me.”

He pulled back to look at her, but didn’t let her go, his look of understanding clear in his eyes. “I will.”

“Okay. Jus - I just wanted to say, hurry.” There was so much left to say and not enough time to say it so she hoped her eyes conveyed enough to him. Enough that he would know what she was feeling and thinking and needing him to know. 

“Got it. See you in one week.”

They smiled at each other and parted, and the group picked up their packs and started heading out. 

He looked back at her one last time, and then they were gone.

\------------------------

Clarke stared after them until she felt a presence at her side and an arm slung around her shoulders. Monty stood on one side of her and Harper on the other. “Come on, I’ve got a new recipe for moonshine I need to try out on someone. Oh! And I wanted to get your take on this new idea for algae I’ve got...”

“Yeah that sounds good,” she laughed with her friend. “The moonshine, not the algae.” She was so glad Monty had decided to stay in the village too. They’d become good friends, family. She’d always be endlessly grateful to Wells for saving his life. Plus, he ended up finding love with Harper. 

“It’s a good back up choice for winter! In case food starts to get low.”

Clarke just groaned and exchanged a look with Harper who looked like she was relieved he was talking about this with someone other than her. She remembered Monty’s obsession with algae when they were doing survival training on the Ark, and while it was a decent idea, she definitely preferred actual food.

They made plans for her and Harper to go over to Monty and Murphy’s cabin for dinner after they were done at the clinic and Monty insisted he’d have enough moonshine to go around. Clarke checked in with Lincoln, who was quieter than usual, presumably because of Octavia leaving, before meeting up Harper.

She walked into the clinic where Harper had a fire already roaring. It was getting close to Thanksgiving on the Ark, she was sure, though she had stopped keeping exact track of the time a while ago. Part of it was because she was nervous about the rest of the Ark coming down. 

She was hopeful that they’d be able to do what she couldn’t; force Finn to hand over control of Skaikru and form some kind of peaceful arrangement. But she was worried that might actually make things worse with Ontari, who was definitely not going to take kindly to all those people in her territory. It felt like a storm was coming, and in a few months that storm would be raging. The Ark was not going to roll over to the likes of Ontari, and chances were good, Ontari would respond with violence.

And then there was her parents, who would be coming down expecting some wonderful, peaceful community set up for them, with Clarke _there_ and not _here_. 

How was she going to explain all that had happened, how she’d fallen in love with these people, this village, _Bellamy_. That her family was not at the dropship anymore, that they were _here_. It was all so complicated. 

She and Harper had quite a busy day, with person after person coming in with viral symptoms, a product of the cold weather. Harper left mid-day to meet with Lincoln and Anya to see about getting a team together to check on their village’s firewood stock, to make sure everyone was staying warm and to refill the clinic’s supply since they’d been burning more and more lately. Clarke volunteered for a gathering mission with Monty later in the week to refill their herb stores too. With the way they were running through their stock, they’d be out soon. And the flu was nothing to mess with, even on the Ark, and Clarke was starting to get nervous about just how bad it would get. 

Thankfully, with the combined knowledge of her and Harper, she was hopeful that it wouldn’t get too bad. They just needed to make sure to stay ahead of it. 

By the time the clinic cleared out and night had started to fall, they were both exhausted and looking forward to an evening with their friends.

Plus, Clarke hadn’t slept at her own cabin in three nights and was not exactly looking forward to it. 

Sleeping next to Bellamy had calmed her nightmares some, and when she did have them, he was right there soothing them down and reassuring her she was okay. For months before him, though, she managed just fine, and was sure she could again. She just missed him. Already. 

The week was going to be rough. But it was only a week.

“You better have made your salmon, Murphy!” Harper declared, walking in the boys’ cabin with Clarke just behind her. 

“Whoa whoa, Murphy _cooks_? How did I not know this?” Clarke demanded.

“Well, I don’t exactly like to spread it around. Then it’s not as fun of a surprise,” he told her. “Plus, when people know you can cook, you tend to get volunteered for it a lot, and you know, I don’t like to be tied down.”

“Yes, heaven forbid you are actually asked to do something around here,” she teased.

“Ouch!” he pretended to be offended. “You’ve been hanging around O too often. I already have one annoying sister, I don’t need another one,” he teased back.

“Well, too late. We’re family, right? You’re kind of stuck with me,” Clarke shrugged.

Harper came up behind her and wrapped her arms around her. “Oh, that doesn’t sound too bad to me.”

Clarke smiled. “Okay, where is this moonshine? This has kind of been a shit day and I’m not exactly looking forward to the restless sleep I’m going to get tonight.”

Murphy quickly glanced at her. “Well, enough of that poison will definitely knock you right out.”

“Stop it’s not that bad!” Monty insisted.

“Well I kind of hope it is, getting knocked out sounds pretty good,” she muttered, sounding like less of a joke that she’d intended for it to sound.

“They’re going to be okay, you know that right? I’m sure the summit is about something stupid or Ontari just wanted updates or something,” Harper tried to reassure her but she wasn’t all as confident as Harper was.

“Right. Of course. I’m being stupid. Both of them can handle themselves just fine.”

“Yes, they can, but it’s okay to be worried about the man you love, Clarke,” Harper said gently. Clarke took a big swig of the moonshine that Monty had given her when she walked in. She knew they all knew something was going on with her and Bellamy, but she hadn’t really talked to any of them directly about it.

She took a deep breath, getting ready to respond, but Murphy beat her to the punch. “And don’t bother trying to deny it, I caught you sneaking out of his cabin yesterday morning,” he told her, raising his eyebrows in challenge before turning back to the fire, removing a pan of some kind.

She felt herself turn red with the implication. She turned to stare at Monty, who was wide-eyed in surprise. He held up two fingers. “Wait, wait, wait. You _what?!_ ”

“Shut up Murphy.”

“Hey no judgement here, I’ve been telling Bell to make a move for like _months_ now.”

“It’s not like that. Nothing has happened,” she insisted.

Well, it kind of was like that. And not _nothing_ had happened. Just not _that_. Yet.

Definitely _yet_.

Harper finally piped in, “Okay, okay, we don’t need to needle Clarke about this, especially right now.”

“Yeah, yeah,” Murphy mumbled. “Okay, everyone sit down, dinner is served!”

They all sat down at the table to eat, and as soon as Monty took a bite, he exclaimed, “This is amazing and I may not hate you anymore.”

“Give it time,” Harper muttered, jokingly, and Murphy glared at her. 

Much to Clarke’s relief, nothing else was said about her spending the night in Bellamy’s cabin, though Monty kept shooting her little looks all through dinner. Eventually, the conversation switched to Harper and Monty and Murphy bugged them enough that eventually they admitted that they were looking at moving in together. 

“Ah ha! I _knew_ it!” Murphy clapped.

“Yes, yes, you are all knowing when it comes to everyone else’s relationships,” Monty said, annoyed. 

“Well, when the guy you’re rooming with won’t shut up about someone and that same someone blushes every time the guy so much as _looks_ at her, you know there’s at least _something_ there,” he pointed out. “Take Bellamy and Clarke - ” 

And they were back. _Great_. So close.

“They never stand more than like 6 inches away from each other, they communicate primarily by looks, and speaking of looks… Bellamy looks at Clarke like she might actually be the sun and stars and Clarke looks at Bellamy like he’s her rock and all the hope in the universe in one hunky package,” he mocked. She saw Harper and Monty stifle giggles from their seats.

“Who knew you were such a poet, Murphy?” Clarke sneered at him, trying to force the blush on her cheeks to disappear. “You’ve been paying way too much attention to us… you need a hobby.”

Harper nodded furiously in agreement with her.

“Who says people watching isn’t a hobby? Octavia has her fighting skills, I have my people-reading skills.”

Clarke groaned and rolled her eyes. 

After a few more drinks, Harper stood. “Well, friends, as lovely as this has been, I think it’s about time we all turn in,” she announced.

“Sure, sure, leave me with the dishes,” Murphy said, pretending to be annoyed. 

“Well, if you insist,” Clarke laughed at him and he threw a leftover carrot at her, making her duck. 

“Come on, I’ll walk you two,” Monty told them.

“Sweet, I get the cabin to myself tonight?!”

“Well, you _are_ doing the dishes… ” Monty joked back. It was sweet to see how Monty and Murphy drove each other crazy, but still managed to be friends. 

The three of them walked up the path towards her and Harper’s cabin, which were both near the clinic, but on opposite sides. Every step she took that brought her closer to her cabin filled her with anxiety. She felt ridiculous. It’d only been three nights since she’d slept in here, it shouldn't feel as foreign as it did. And she could certainly take on a few nightmares.

When they got to her cabin, she stood staring at it for a moment before turning to say goodnight to her friends. Monty wrapped her in a hug and a smile, but when she faced Harper, Harper told Monty that she’d catch up with him.

He nodded knowingly and left the two girls to themselves.

“Sit,” Harper said, gesturing to the porch. It was cold enough to see their breath but thankfully, she’d remembered a jacket before heading over to Murphy and Monty’s. 

“What’s up?” she asked, trying to clear the shakiness of her voice. 

“As much fun as Murphy was having teasing you about Bell… I know you’ve been staying there partially because of the nightmares you’ve been having,” she said softly, but honestly.

Clarke’s head snapped around to her friend, cocking her head up in question. 

“You’re not the only one worried about someone you love,” Harper continued. “You’re worried about him leaving as much as he’s worried about you staying,” she explained.

“He doesn’t need to be worried. I’m fine.”

“Sure you are. We all know you can handle things, Clarke, that’s never been the question… ” Harper shook her head. “He came to me before he left. He wanted me to tell you that you are welcome to stay in his cabin while he’s gone, if you want to and think it will help.”

“Harper…”

“Clarke, life is too short to be without the one you love. I told him that too. I wish he would’ve - ” she shook her head again. “When he gets back, don’t waste anymore time, okay?”

She nodded. “Thanks, Harper.” 

Harper wrapped her in a tight, lasting hug before releasing her. Clarke sat on the porch a while longer before finally turning around and entering the cabin. 

It was cold, in more than one way. It’d only been three days since she’d really spent time in here, but it felt like so much longer. Like it wasn’t her home anymore. 

Her home had walked out the gates that morning. 

_Your home is somewhere that when you leave, you just miss it_. Her father had told her that. It was part of what made her go back to Sonchahou when she’d left months ago. The village was her home, but _he_ was also her home. And she missed him.

There was no point in trying to sleep, not yet anyway, so she lit a fire and grabbed some papers and a pencil and set to work on drawing. Art had always been a way to keep her mind and hands busy when she was getting overwhelmed. It helped to center and ground her. 

She was halfway done on her third drawing when she finally couldn’t keep her eyes open any longer. She put her stuff down and crawled into bed and despite the fact that it was familiar, it wasn’t what she wanted. But she didn’t want to take Harper up on his offer. Not yet, anyway.

\------------------------

The week passed about how she had expected it to. Busy and full, but slow. And to compound it even further was her sleep deprivation from her restless mind at night. McCreary wasn’t even the focus of them anymore, though he was always lurking in the background, or Wells.

It was Bellamy, dying a million different ways. It was him tortured for loving her, like they were breaking some rule. It was him kidnapped and sent to another village to live out the rest of his days. It was him, jumping in front of a sword or bullet for his sister - or really anyone else, because he absolutely would sacrifice himself for someone else.

She’d refused to sleep in his cabin still, determined to overcome her demons instead of running from them. But it was torture anyway. And since she didn’t have his hand to grip anymore when she’d freeze or start to panic, she had taken to balling her hands up in fists again. It helped that the others were checking in on her regularly.

Still, it was better than what he was probably going through in Polis, that was for sure, so she tried to step it up and help in whatever ways she could. She knew he enjoyed taking some time after lunch reading to the children, so she took over that as her responsibility. She also made sure things were running smoothly with the new cabins, and their winter stores of food were holding up okay, just so she had something to do when the clinic was slow to keep her mind from obsessing.

She wasn’t a leader in the village, and she was afraid she’d be stepping on toes, but Lincoln and Anya never said anything to her about doing the things that they knew Bellamy would do. They just gave her the information she was looking for and even asked her opinions on different things that were happening. 

The clinic had slowed way down, partially due to the generous set of herbs that her and Monty had found a few days ago. There were even some plants that she recognized from her training on the Ark that Harper hadn’t had any idea would help. Cardamom seeds were extraordinarily helpful with respiratory issues so Monty had been spending time studying them and figuring out the right dosage to put together packets of those and lavender to help when the residents had colds. 

But finally the day was here. This was the day they were expected back. She felt her whole body on edge, her hearing sharper than normal. Every little voice she heard could be a scout or guard announcing their return. 

She found herself taking the long way around the village just so she could pass by the gate every time she needed to go somewhere, to the dining hall or a house call. And everytime she approached, whoever was on duty looked down at her from their watch tower and shook their heads.

The sun was setting and she told herself that any number of things could be the reason why they were coming back so late in the day. Maybe they had a late start to their journey, or got caught in bad weather. 

He said it shouldn’t take longer than a week, but that didn’t mean it was absolute. Or what _time_ of day they’d be back.

That night, she stayed awake all night, drawing furiously to keep her mind and hands busy and calm.

\------------------------

It was the morning of the eighth day that they’d been gone and the group was nowhere to be seen or heard from. She’d been up the entire night, save for the last hour or so where she passed out with her head on the table and woke up with a face full of charcoal.

When the whole day passed and they _still_ hadn’t returned, that night was the first night Clarke allowed herself to sleep in Bellamy’s cabin. She hadn’t had a breakdown all week, but as the night set and they still weren’t back yet, she could feel herself losing it a little. She was so worried about Octavia and Bellamy and what was happening between them, Finn, and Ontari. 

She’d spent dinner with Lincoln, knowing that he would be worried as well. He didn’t much let on that he was, but she knew he appreciated the company. Bellamy wasn’t her husband like Octavia was his wife, but they were both worried about the people they loved. The love Lincoln had for Octavia ran deep and she could see it coursing through him whenever he talked about her.. 

He assured her that there were a hundred different reasons why they hadn’t come back yet and that it was in Ontari’s best interests to make sure all the ambassadors stayed safe or she’d lose control of the coalition. More likely, it was the weather that was slowing them down; Polis was farther north than Sonchahou and tended to be a lot colder.

So that’s what she told herself while she fell asleep that night, wrapped in Bellamy’s blankets and the clothes she’d used the last time that she’d spent the night there. She wasn’t planning on wearing his stuff, but when she walked in, they were sitting clean and folded on his pillow, like they’d been laid out for her.

She buried her nose in the pillow, inhaling the faded scent of pine trees and salt water. She slept in the next morning, Harper having told her to take the day off from the clinic since she’d been running herself ragged all week.

\------------------------

It was day 15, over a week past when Bellamy said they’d be back, when she decided to take a trip down to visit Aurora. She had asked Murphy if he wanted to come, but he’d told her no, that he didn’t feel like going down there. He’d been short with her and snapped a little, an obvious defense mechanism to the fact that two of his family members were basically missing.

The entire village was on edge, they could all feel it. It held a coldness to it that had nothing to do with the fact that winter was settling in. The Blake siblings had brought such light and laughter and warmth to everything, not just her and their little family, and it was disconcerting to everyone. Her heart felt ready to explode every second longer they were gone. 

It was almost to the point where she didn’t _want_ to know what had happened, because she was losing hope that they’d come back in one piece. There was just no way that something really bad hadn’t happened with how long it was taking, she could feel it in her bones that something had gone wrong. It was winter, cold and wet, but the weather shouldn’t have slowed them down this long. Even Lincoln, the normally calm and collected optimistic man was starting to show signs of worry.

So she bundled up in her heaviest jacket, something she’d had to get from the village clothing storage, since her jacket from the Ark was more suited to the milder seasons, grabbed the drawings she had promised Aurora she’d bring with her, and began the trek down to the lighthouse.

She had barely knocked once when the door flew open. Aurora stood there, circles under her eyes and clothes a little skewed, clearly worried about her children as well. Clarke was afraid she was going to be disappointed that she wasn’t Bellamy and Octavia, but Aurora’s face showed no such emotion. She took one look at Clarke and pulled her into a big bear hug, tight and full of emotion. The Blakes clearly got the way they hugged from their mother.

Clarke hadn’t expected the barrage of emotions that it evoked, however, breaking down in the woman’s arms. It wasn’t even just because she missed and worried about Bellamy and O, it was also the fact that the way Aurora hugged her was so _maternal_. 

Clarke had missed the hug of a mother.

“There you go, it’s alright, hon, just let it out,” Aurora comforted.

“I should be saying that to you, I’m so sorry,” Clarke sniffled. 

Aurora pulled back and led Clarke over to the fireplace and its roaring fire. She hadn’t really noticed the view the last time she’d been there, since it had been dark, but over on the east side of the living area was a large picture window in full view of the ocean. Clarke hadn’t been able to make it down to the beach as often as she wanted with it being so cold these days. 

She wiped hastily at her cheeks, and tried to consciously slow down her breathing. 

“Clarke, honey, you don’t ever need to apologize for your emotions. We both miss them. It’s okay to not be okay,” she told her. “I mean, just look at me, I’m not exactly put together right now,” she joked.

Clarke chuckled and shook her head. “Bellamy said that to me once, that it was okay to not be okay... after I was - ” Clarke hesitated. “He must’ve heard that from you.”

“Yes, well, that boy tends to try to bury things down until it explodes all over something. As proud as I am of the way he leads this village, he too often tries to do it all. He tries to do the logical thing when sometimes he needs to lead with his heart. He’s much better at that. When he was little he had too much responsibility for a child his age,” she hesitated, sounding regretful. “And he had to grow up too quickly.” She looked up at Clarke again. “Anyway…” Aurora waved off, wiping her own eyes. “Can I ask why he felt like he needed to tell you that?”

Clarke could also see where the Blakes got their brutal honesty from. She’d had a taste of that at the dinner she went to a couple weeks ago. Aurora seemed strong and graceful and Clarke found herself wanting to tell her everything. 

So she did. She was careful with her words, knowing the Aurora had been through her own experience, but still clear enough to know what had happened. She absentmindedly touched the long healed wound on her head, feeling the jagged scar she'd always have as a reminder of what she had gone through. 

Aurora listened patiently until she was finished. Then she reached over and grasped one of Clarke’s hands between both of hers, and looked her straight in the eyes. 

“ _Sen ai op. Yu laik gona. Ste yuj._ ”

“I’m sorry - I don’t - ” 

Aurora smiled at her. “It means, ‘listen to me, you are a warrior, stay strong’.”

“ _Ste yuj,_ ” Clarke repeated.

Aurora nodded. “Stay strong. I saw it in you the moment I met you. You are strong. You are fierce. But strength doesn’t mean emotionless. It doesn’t mean you can’t be shaken, it just means when you get knocked down, you get back up again. _Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim._ ”

“I like that.” She smiled at the woman. “Thanks. I - I miss my own mother. A lot. And my father. They were so different, saw the world in completely different ways, but they were loving and brilliant and - my parents.”

“Well, I know I’m not your mother, but you are welcome here anytime you need a little parental love, dear.”

“Would you - would you mind teaching me Trigedaslang? I think it’s time I learn,” Clarke asked. It’d give her an excuse to continue going down there, where it was warm and safe and reminded her so much of the people she missed and she’d get to learn something she’d been meaning to ask Harper about anyway.

“Of course, I’d be honored to teach you our language. Especially since you are one of us now. And I would love to get the chance to know the woman my son is so taken by.”

“Oh,” Clarke breathed. She wasn’t really sure how to respond to that. “I - uh - ”

“Don’t be nervous, I know my son. It was obvious every time he looked at you that night. I’d have known even if O and Murphy hadn’t been talking about it non-stop every time they came down to see me.They are quite excited for their brother. As am I,” she added. “And I can see in your eyes that it is anything but one-sided.” 

Clarke felt like a small weight she didn’t even know was there had been lifted. “It is definitely not one-sided,” she confirmed, chuckling. “He’s - I do love him,” she said out loud for the first time. And maybe it should’ve been to Bellamy first instead of his mother, but she knew it was okay. It made it feel real, revealing her feelings to someone who meant so much to him. 

“Well, come on, let’s get something to eat, hmm? It’s almost dinner time. And Bellamy would never forgive me if I didn’t make sure you ate properly. Worrying does absolutely nothing for the appetite,” she teased.

Clarke laughed and together they prepared dinner and after Aurora jumped right in with her Trig lessons, teaching her some basic phrases she wanted Clarke to practice until she came back. Clarke promised she’d try to in two days, also promising to drag Murphy down by his ear if she had to.

Clarke was getting ready to leave before she remembered the drawings. 

“Oh, I have something for you,” she said, pulling out the rolls from her coat. “They’re a little rough, but it’s given me something to focus on over the past couple of weeks.” She found she was actually a little nervous for Aurora to see them. It wasn’t like it was a big deal if she didn’t like them, or that she even expected her to, but still. 

Aurora unrolled them. There were two, one of Octavia and Bellamy on one of the days they had played another game of _Gapa_. Octavia had jumped on Bellamy’s back (they were on the same team that game) and he ran her into the pit, scoring the winning point. They had identical smiles on their faces and their eyes lit up, reflecting the sun on one of the rare clear days they’d had lately. 

The other was Bellamy, Murphy, and Octavia the first night she’d been here, the three of them shoving at each other the way siblings do. She’d never had that, except with Wells, and was endlessly entertained by their interactions. 

“Clarke, these are…” she trailed off looking at Clarke with glistening eyes. “These are beautiful, thank you.” She wrapped Clarke up in another hug, and they bid each other goodnight.

Despite the fact that they hadn’t heard from their group in too long, Clarke felt lighter than she had since they left and was so relieved that she’d decided to make the trip down. 

She still had a fitful sleep when she got back to Bellamy’s cabin that night, finally feeling more hopeful than she had in a week.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yep, and we're back with the angst because I have no self-control. Hope you'll stick around to see these two made-for-each-other fools finally get together though!
> 
> I know there wasn't a ton of Bellamy in this one, with him being gone for 15 DAYS SO FAR, but I'll go ahead and tease that he's in A TON of the next one as we find out what is taking him so long.
> 
> See you Tuesday!


	16. Chapter 16

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm, uh, not really sure what to intro this with actually.
> 
> Just... 
> 
> well...
> 
> here you go.
> 
> Catch you all on the flip.

“I don’t understand, why can’t we just send a group after them?” Clarke asked them on day 22. It’d been just over three weeks since they left on a trip that was supposed to be a week. She’d spent most of the time worrying her head off about them, but now she was just angry and ready to march to Polis herself.

Lincoln and Anya exchanged a look before Anya threw up her hands and motioned for Lincoln to explain. He hesitated only briefly. While he was normally very stoic, his expression very rarely giving away his thoughts, she could see worry flash behind his eyes. “Bellamy insisted that we wait a month before sending anyone after them. At that point - ”

“Oh of course he did! The self-sacrificial moron!” she exclaimed, not able to help herself from interrupting him. They were in the meeting hall, arguing about sending a group after them, which they had already been considering, but apparently _after_ the month waiting period. “Sorry,” she mumbled to Lincoln for her outburst. “I want on that trip.”

“Absolutely not,” Anya told her, shutting her down. “As our head healer, you need to remain in Sonchahou."

Clarke tried to push down the growl of frustration gaining traction in her throat. 

And of course it made sense that she should stay here, especially since more and more of the village’s residents had started coming in with flu symptoms. Most turned out to be mainly small viruses, nothing too serious but she knew she had a responsibility to her people to stay and help. 

But he also had a responsibility to _come the hell back_.

She was going to kick his ass the moment he walked through those gates.

In addition to Trig lessons from Aurora, she had been trying to continue to practice what she’d learned in fighting and self-defense lessons that Octavia had given her before she left, sparring with whoever was available every chance she got. 

She was pretty sure she had a decent chance against Bellamy at this point. 

Well, maybe not, but she felt like her anger might give her a little bit of an edge anyway.

“Clarke, we can’t - ” Lincoln began again.

“Yes, I know, we’ve been through this a million times. I just - ”

“I’m worried too,” Lincoln said, putting a hand on her arm.

“Okay, let’s go through this again,” she said, taking a deep breath and trying to clear her mind of the anger and panic clouding her judgement. “Ontari didn’t give _any_ \- ”

“CLARKE!” she heard her name shouted from outside the meeting hall and spun to face the door. She recognized Murphy’s voice instantly and she tore out the door in seconds. 

“Murphy, what the hell is going on?” she demanded, facing her red faced and very much out of breath friend.

“They’re back.”

Clarke was pretty sure she froze and started shaking all at the same time. It had been what she had been waiting for, but her brain was still having a hard time processing those two words. “Al- All of them? Are they okay?” They were too far away to see the gate from where they were, but she looked that direction anyway.

“Yeah, our scouts just signaled, the entire group is headed in. I don’t know their condition though,” he said a little nervously. “But apparently they’re all there.” He seemed in a better mood than he had for two weeks, so she chose to hope for the best. She’d find out either way in just a few minutes.

She nodded, but still seemed unable to move her feet, biting her lip. 

“Go, I’ll catch up. I’m going to head in and let Lincoln know,” he told her, giving her the push she needed.

“Are you sure?”

“Yeah. Go get him,” he said, winking at her.

Clarke smiled at him and took off. She ran the entire way to the gate and just as she got within sight of it, she noticed the doors swinging wide and the group staggering in. She picked him out easily, her eyes recognizing his dark brown curls immediately. He had someone under his arm, and they were both limping. Off to the other side of the person she couldn’t quite see the identity of was Octavia. 

She registered they were alive before she allowed herself to tunnel vision onto Bellamy and she barreled straight for him. He saw her two seconds before she got to him, just enough time to pass the person he was helping off to O before Clarke leapt into his arms.

It probably wasn’t smart, he could have any number of injuries, especially since he was limping, but all she could comprehend in that moment was that _he came back to her_.

And he was _alive_.

They’d figure everything else out.

She wrapped her arms around his neck, burying her nose into his neck, his extremely dirty, sweaty neck, but it was still somehow the sweetest thing she’d ever smelled. It took him only a second before his arms wrapped around her middle. He lifted her off her feet and she felt his muscles flex around her, holding her securely to him. 

“Hey Princess,” he said gruffly into her ear, like he hadn’t used his voice in a while. He finally set her down but didn’t let her move out of his arms completely, moving back only so far that their foreheads touched. She let her hands grip his shoulders, probably a little too tightly, but she needed to feel him, to convince herself she wasn’t hallucinating.

“What the hell took you so long?” she asked, voice breaking a little, the scold falling flat in the face of her obvious relief. Every ounce of anger and frustration and panic she’d been feeling only moments ago eased with every touch.

He chuckled a little, and _damn_ she’d missed that sound. Her memory of it hadn’t done it any justice; it sounded like pure bliss in her ears.. “Made you a promise; I told you I’d be back, just took a little longer than I thought it would.” It wasn’t exactly an answer to what she had asked, but his voice was tinged with something bitter and she knew whatever had happened was not good. 

But still - 

“And now you’re _home_ ,” she emphasized, not meaning Sonchahou at all.

***

**  
_3 weeks ago_   
**

“She’s going to be okay, you know that, right? They all will.” Octavia asked from next to him, about an hour after they’d left. He nodded, not really having much to add. He had to hope they’d all be okay; there wasn’t much he could do about it from there anyway.

The weather was cold, bitterly so. He’d always preferred the sun, or even the rain, to the biting chill of winter. It threatened to upend his optimism, but he knew his sister was right; if there was anything that Bellamy knew about Clarke, it was that she didn’t need protecting. 

But even the strongest among them didn’t need to be alone in it. He was thankful for the family he’d left behind with her, knowing that they’d all take care of each other.

He knew that that night, he’d be dreaming of blonde hair and blue eyes and a body that fit perfectly in the curve of his, like it was always meant to be there. Of her sarcasm and bite, and soft pale skin, and tough as nails attitude. 

But he didn’t even want to think what she’d be dreaming about. He hoped it would be him, that their nights together would be what her mind latched onto, not the fear.

It was why he’d made sure to talk to Harper before he left, wanting her to let Clarke know that it was okay to use his cabin, sleep in his bed if she wanted to. They’d only just gotten into a rhythm before he left, and more than anything he wanted to get back to that. To her.

A week was too long. 

Fucking Ontari.

“Yeah, of course she - they - will,” he finally responded, just to have something to say out loud.

“Well then why are you worrying so loud?”

He sighed dramatically. It felt a little ridiculous, how used to her he’d gotten in such a short amount of time, how gone he was for her. Before she arrived in his life, blowing up any semblance of what his life used to look like, he wouldn’t have blinked an eye at going to Polis in lieu of Luna. He wouldn’t have been excited about it, sure, but it wouldn’t have been as big of a deal.

A week was too long. 

“I’m not _worried_ … that’s not - I just - ” he stumbled, trying to find the words.

“ - love her? Miss her?” O guessed, and to her credit, with just a hint of mockery.

He was sure if it were Murphy here instead of O, that it’s be a no holds barred journey of mockery.

“Yeah. I just want to get this over with.”

They walked for a few minutes more before - 

“I’m pregnant.”

He was pretty sure he stopped breathing. That was definitely what it felt like to have no more breath in his lungs. His eyes blinked rapidly, trying to process what he’d just heard.

He continued walking because he wasn’t really sure his voice would work even if he _could_ figure out what to say. 

“Bell?”

“Hmm?” was the only thing he could get out, his breathing only having semi-regulated.

“Did you hear what I said?”

“Yep,” he managed if only because he knew he was going to have to come up with something else and there were too many thoughts running through his head. But then he pictured a tiny little baby in her arms, on Lincoln’s shoulders, building sand castles with their grandmother, listening to stories from his Uncle and Bellamy couldn't stop the tears from flowing. He finally stopped walking to look at her, the rest of their group a few paces ahead.

“Bell?”

He took two long strides before wrapping his sister up in his arms, swinging her around like he did when they were kids. 

Now she was having a kid of her own. And he couldn't be more proud.

Octavia giggled, actually giggled, and he kissed her cheek. “Congratulations _strisis_. You’re going to be an amazing mother.”

“Really?” she asked, staring up at him. “Are you sure? Because I’m fucking terrified. I mean, I’m happy, but terrified. This wasn’t - wasn’t supposed to happen yet.”

“It happens when it happens, O. And yeah, I’m sure. Lincoln?”

“He knows, obviously. I don’t think I’ve ever seen him cry that much,” she chuckled. “He’s going to kill me if he knows I told you that so let’s file that one under brother-sister confidence, yeah? ”

Bellamy laughed and they resumed walking, tucking his little sister under his arm. “You got it.” Then another emotion fought for attention away from his excitement and he bit his lip. She was not going to like what he had to say next. “Octavia…” he started, using her full name. 

“No. Don’t say it. I’m fine to be here, Bell,” she insisted, shutting him down. 

“But - ”

“You just said I’d be a good mother, so maybe just trust me? It’s early still, and plenty of women are fine to carry on with normal life for a while still.”

He sighed. “You’re not just any other woman. You’re my sister. Without knowing what we’re walking into. You should’ve at least told me. Just - be careful, okay?” he pleaded. Part of him was upset that she’d made the decision to come, but he knew she had to make her own choices and he couldn’t play the over-protective big brother anymore. She was never going to just shut down her responsibilities for nine months.

“I _am_ telling you. And of course I will be.”

It took two days to reach Polis, like usual, and they were all some weird combination of hot and cold. Sweaty and warm from the two day hike, but freezing because the temperatures in Polis were frigid, befitting of an Azgeda Commander, and the air threatened snow. 

Roan greeted them at the entrance to Polis, pushing off the sign explaining the rules under the current commander where he had been leaning. Thankfully, they were allowed weapons, unlike when they visited Trikru, though Trikru wasn’t as likely to slice his throat while he slept, so he was never as nervous to abandon his weapons there. There was no way he was being anywhere near Ontari without defense.

“ _Heyo_ , Floukru. _Monin gon_ Polis,” Roan welcomed.

“Let’s just get this over with, Roan. What is it that Ontari wants now?” he asked. He knew Roan didn’t always agree with Ontari’s leadership, though he was still loyal to her. She was his sister, if anyone was going to have any intel on what they were walking into, it would be him. His own sister was carrying a child and he needed to know as much as he could, as soon as he could. 

Plus, he’d made Clarke a promise he fully intended on keeping.

_Come back to me._

She’d said it and almost nothing had ever sounded better in his ears. Except maybe the sound of her laugh. From the first moment he’d heard her laugh he’d been captivated and he should’ve known that he was always going to end up completely in love with her.

“I don’t know man, she’s keeping it pretty close. I’m not even sure Titus knows what she’s up to.”

TItus was her flamekeeper, more loyal to the previous Commander, Lexa, than Ontari, but he was more loyal to the flame than anything else so he’d stayed in his position. He was also the only flamekeeper fully trained, so he was more or less safe from Ontari’s violent tendencies.

“And, uh, the other problem that you were supposed to make sure got taken care of for me?” he asked, making it clear he was asking about McCreary, his voice lower. If McCreary was wandering around free, he needed to know that now. 

Roan cocked an eyebrow at him. “Ontari let him go,” he said through gritted teeth and Bellamy felt every muscle in his body tense. “She believed me, but still, she only sentenced him to a week in the dungeons before letting him out. My sister has no problem killing children while they sleep, I should've known she wouldn’t care about what McCreary did,” he told Bellamy, venom in every syllable.

Bellamy didn’t even know which obscenity to start with.

Roan clicked his tongue, tone changing to mockery. “However, a couple days later, he was involved in a weird incident and was accidentally beheaded,” Roan told him, voice low, pointed. 

Bellamy let out the breath he was holding. “And how exactly does someone accidentally get beheaded, Roan?”

“Well, those swords are _sharp_ and he was drunk, and _someone_ apparently wasn’t keen on letting him off so easily. Killed with his own sword.”

It was clear from the way he spoke and the smirk on his face that Roan was the one who either did it himself, or had someone do it for him, but either way, McCreary had met his end.

While outright murder always sat wrong with him, he couldn’t say he wasn’t glad the man was dead and couldn’t hurt anyone anymore.

“Good,” Octavia said, nodding her head and her expression hard. They approached the ambassador’s quarters, a little building at the base of the tower. 

“Are all the other clans here? I want this over with as soon as possible,” he demanded.

“Wow, in quite the hurry… Got someone to get home to, Blake?” he teased. Octavia snorted.

“Who are we missing, Roan?” he pressed, ignoring the taunt.

“Skaikru, of course. Worthless piece of shit leader is late.”

Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Of course he is.” 

At least he wasn’t the only one who hated Finn.

\------------------------

“And now you’re _home_.”

Holding Clarke in his arms again was even better than he had imagined over the last three weeks. There were so many times that he thought he wouldn’t get to do it again. So many times where he’d almost had to break his promise to come back. 

But as much as he relished in the moment they were having, even if it was out in the open around at least two dozen people and he wasn’t a hundred percent sure of what they were or weren’t, at the moment, he didn’t care about any of that.

A voice in the back of his head reminded him that they might not get many more moments like this so he needed to savor every second.

As soon as the gates opened to the crowd waiting for them, he started scanning for the specific shade of blonde that was seared into his memory. He caught sight of it, running through the crowd like a hurricane seconds before she leapt into him.

He smiled at her scold, and managed to side-step her question about why they’d been gone so long, reminding her that he’d at least kept his promise to come back.

And then her knee bumped the wound on his thigh and while the pain from his injury had dulled down to just mostly an ache now, it still twitched in a way that forced him to grit his teeth. He hoped she wouldn’t notice, but he should have known that there was no way he was getting out of that one. Not many things escaped Clarke Griffin’s notice.

“You're limping,” she commented worriedly.

“It’s fine, Clarke. It’s nothing, I’m okay.” 

She shook her head at him. “What happened?”

There were so many things to tell her, so many things he didn’t want her to know and he knew he’d have to tell her everything eventually, but for the moment, he decided to go with the simplest answer, since he knew she was primarily talking about his leg.

“I took an Azgeda arrow to the leg,” he said finally, almost being able to perfectly predict her reaction. 

Her eyes widened. “That is _not_ nothing!” she practically growled.

“I’ve been walking on it for days, it’s fine. Probably already almost healed.”

She narrowed her eyes at him disapprovingly. “If you’ve been walking on it for days, I’m going to go ahead and guess that you didn’t clean and dress it properly?”

His silence gave her the answer. Truth was, O had tried to get him to slow down so she could check it out and maybe find some herbs or red seaweed to apply to it, but he refused to stop, needing to get home as quickly as possible. There were too many things to figure out in too little time and he'd already been gone three times longer than he told Clarke he would. He told O that he’d deal with any infection surrounding his leg once he got home.

“Okay,” she said, nodding her head. He expected her to be more angry at him than she was, but instead she looked like she was trying to hold herself together. Anger would probably come later. Right now, he knew she was trying to remain in healer mode, dealing with one thing at a time. “What about the rest of you?”

She turned to Octavia then, who had just disentangled herself from Lincoln. He had barely clocked the man running up just a few paces behind Clarke to wrap his sister up in his peripheral before all of his attention had turned to the blonde in his arms.

Clarke stepped away from him and wrapped O in a hug too. 

“I’m glad you’re okay,” Clarke told her.

“You too,” his sister said back. They both smiled at each other and it warmed his heart to see them like that.

“Are you hurt at all?”

O shook her head. “I’m a little banged up but I’m okay,” she told Clarke and Lincoln, who hadn’t stopped looking at O, concerned. 

Clarke nodded and looked back to him. “Anyone else need medical treatment?” She looked around and landed on the person he’d brought in. He’d had to pass her off to O when he noticed Clarke running for him, but now as he scanned the crows, he noticed Murphy of all people holding onto her now. “ _Raven_?” she asked, incredulous and looked back at him. “What the hell is she doing here?”

“It’s a long story, but I think her leg might be broken, she needs our help.”

“Hey Griffin. Village by the ocean, hmm?” she asked Clarke, looking completely defeated. He’d talked to her some after everything that went down on their long journey back, but she’d confided in O more than him. He knew who she was though, and he knew Clarke might have a hard time swallowing her sudden presence. “I’m… ” Raven began, biting the inside of her cheek. “I’m sorry, you were right. About Finn. He - you were right.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at Raven, studying her before nodding once. “Get her to the clinic, Murphy,” she directed. “Harper and I will be right behind you.”

“Alrighty then.” Murphy mock saluted. “Let’s go,” Murphy said to Raven, already starting to guide her down the path. Before he turned he said more seriously, “Glad you’re alive Blake. And little Blake.”

“Don’t call me that!”

“I’ll call you whatever I want!” Murphy threw over his shoulder to O, who just laughed and shook her head.

Clarke stepped closer to Bellamy, and put her hands on his face. For a moment, he almost believed she might kiss him. Or that he would kiss her. “Please, come with me to the clinic? I need to check out your leg.”

“Clarke, there’s so many things I need to check on and I told you my leg is - ”

“ - fine. Yeah, I heard you the first time. Forgive me for not trusting in your medical knowledge.”

His lips twitched up in a grin. “Okay, but you need to check out Raven and O first.”

“I don’t tell you how to do your job, how about you don’t tell me how to do mine?” 

It was such a ridiculous banter of conversation. Both stubborn, both refusing to stand down. It was very _them_. And it had been three weeks, the longest three weeks of his life, but somehow all the pain and fighting and narrow misses faded away. She was looking at him like she’d looked at him before he left, like nothing had changed. Yet, everything had.

“I missed you,” he told her, lunging forward to press a small peck to her nose. 

She smiled that stunning smile of hers, the one that he’d like to think was reserved just for him and responded, “I missed you too.” And always wanting to one-up him, she pulled him down to kiss his cheek, searing and deep and he’d never forget the way her lips felt on his skin.

They all started to walk, towards the clinic, Bellamy leaning a bit more now on Lincoln. He was able to push through the pain when he had a destination, a goal, his determination to get back being more important. 

But now the adrenaline was wearing down and he was finding it difficult to put any sort of pressure on his leg. This was not good, he had too much to do, too much to figure out to be down a leg.

They got in the clinic and Lincoln helped him get up on a bed, and O hopped up next to him, swinging her legs. She was beat up, bruises everywhere and she was as dirty and blood-stained and scratched up as he was, but he made sure nothing happened to that baby. That was actually how he’d gotten the arrow in the first place. It had been meant for her.

Clarke didn’t ask him any more questions about how Raven had gotten there or _why_ , seemingly just taking his word for it and got to work examining her leg, which was way worse off than his.

“What happened to it?” Clarke asked. Even in the forest he knew it was bad, her knee’s angle bent unnaturally. He’d tried to carry her for a while, trading off with the other guards, but two days was a lot with their own injuries and they’d had to set her down for the last couple of hours.

“Um - ” she looked at Bellamy, and he could see the gears turning in her head, probably trying to figure out how much to explain, without giving too much away. Their whole group were under his orders _not_ to talk about what happened until he could talk to Clarke about it. “We - we were running, trying to get out of Polis, and my foot slammed through some rotted wood on a bridge. My leg went right through like butter, and I was stuck, fucking ancient bridges. You’d think it would have been rebuilt by now or something,” she mumbled.

“To be fair, our clans don’t usually use that route. That’s why we’d chosen it to get out,” Bellamy pointed out.

“Yeah. Anyway. An old nail went right through my leg above the knee. They pulled me out, but I haven’t really been able to put any weight on it,” Raven said dejectedly. He got the feeling she didn’t like being wrong, or needing help. She and Clarke apparently had a lot in common. “I, uh, can’t even feel that half of my leg,” she added. Anytime she’d been next to one of them, her foot was dragging so that wasn’t a complete surprise to Bellamy. But he knew how bad that probably boded for her.

“Okay, I’m going to need to see where the nail went in, make sure it isn’t infected,” Clarke told her. “Is it still in there?” Raven shook her head. It had been a debate, just like Bellamy’s arrow, but in the end, they both knew they weren’t going to get anywhere with objects stuck in their legs. “Good. Normally I would say leave it in, but if that nail was that old, we’re going to be lucky if you don’t end up tetanus,” Clarke told her. Raven winced as Clarke poked around, but nodded in understanding.

No one else seemed to, though, so Harper asked softly, “Tetanus?”

“It’s just a specific type of infection that comes from rusty metals. I haven’t tried to treat that here on the ground yet, but it can get really bad. I’m hoping some red seaweed on it will keep it from getting there.”

“Okay, we’ve seen that before, we just called it something different.”

Clarke nodded. “Will you grab the extract _and_ our stores of the fresh seaweed? I’m going to double up.” Harper nodded and took off for the cabinets. “Okay, Raven, I need to take a look. I’ll pull the curtains back so you can get out of your - ”

But before Clarke finished explaining that Raven needed to remove her pants, she wiggled out of them and plopped them down on the floor. “There. I don’t embarrass easily. Just do what you need to, doc.” 

Bellamy looked away out of respect and his gaze landed on Murphy, who was smirking to himself while he stared at the floor. And if Bellamy wasn’t mistaken, a blush was creeping up on his neck. He couldn’t remember Murphy ever having that sort of reaction.

He heard Clarke over at the sink, presumably washing her hands and got to work on Raven’s wound. She directed Murphy to start a fire to keep the cabin warm and in addition to the seaweed, Harper grabbed some blankets to cover Raven’s lap. Octavia leaned her head on Bellamy’s shoulder while Lincoln stood in front of her holding both of her hands. He could see the normally expressionless man’s eyebrows furrowed in concern for his wife and child. 

“Hey Clarke - ” Bellamy began.

“Yeah?” she asked without turning from Raven’s leg. She had stitched the wound shut after cleaning it and was putting the dressings on. Raven had her jaw clamped shut and a death grip on the edge of the bed next to her until Monty came up to hold her hand instead.

“Bell, I’m fine, we’re fine,” his sister mumbled.

“You need to be checked out, O.”

He’d done what he could to protect her and the baby, but he’d still feel better if she got looked at.

Clarke’s gaze snapped to them, eyes darting back and forth. “What am I missing?”

Octavia sat up a little straighter and he noticed how much effort it was taking to keep her eyes open. She gripped Lincoln’s hand. “I’m - I’m pregnant.”

“The fuck did you just say?” Murphy said, spinning around from over by the fireplace.

“Harp.”

“Yeah, I got it.” They all started moving quickly. Clarke finished with Raven’s leg and Harper shooed Bellamy off the bed so Octavia could lay back. She tried to protest, insisting Bellamy was the one with the hole in his leg, but he gladly stepped aside. Harper beamed at O the whole time, trying to remain calm and level headed, but she could see the excitement radiating off of her. Monty was busy boiling more water to get her cleaned up and Murphy drifted towards the bed, a giant grin on his face.

Harper started taking her pulse and checking her injuries out when Clarke walked over, standing next to O’s head. She put one hand on her shoulder and one hand on Bellamy’s back, rubbing small circles.

“Congratulations, O, Lincoln. That’s amazing.”

“I’m sure I’m fine, but, Clarke, what if the fighting - ”

“Nope. Don’t think like that. Everything is going to be fine,” she said confidently, dropping a small kiss O’s forehead. 

“Well, you look okay, no injuries to your abdomen. I tried to listen for a heartbeat. Do you know how far along you are, O?” Harper asked.

“Not far. Maybe a month? Maybe a little over that? Timing adds up; I’m really regular.”

“Okay, then it’s too early to hear from the outside. But we’ll want to keep checking. We’ll keep checking every week until we can hear one though, okay?” she told her gently. Octavia nodded.

Next to him, he heard Clarke dip her voice down to address his sister a little more privately. “Has there been any bleeding?” Octavia shook her head. “Okay, that’s good. Come immediately if there is.” Octavia nodded in understanding. “Okay, Lincoln, you can get her out of here. Let her rest for as long as her body needs,” then she glanced at him real quick before adding, “No shenanigans for now, yeah?” Bellamy groaned reflexively, eliciting a small smile to creep up on Clarke’s face. “Monty and Murphy, will you go grab food for everyone? Raven will need to spend the night here - ”

“No, come on, I’m good,” Raven tried protesting from her bed, but Clarke shot her a look.

“ - and is going to need some food. O too, take her some on your guys’ way back. We’ll have to rotate shifts with her,” she nodded over to Raven. He could see Raven already fading quick, the strain from the journey probably taking its toll. Octavia too.

“I don’t need to be baby-sat,” Raven insisted.

“No, but your wound does. It doesn’t look infected, but the nail hit _something_ , a nerve or a tendon. A simple through and through wouldn’t have caused that kind of pain or for you to lose feeling like that. So we’ll keep an eye on it for a couple days. We’re not arguing about this,” Clarke told her without room for any disagreement. “I treated you because I trust Bellamy. But you and I don’t exactly have a great history and until I get the whole story, I’m not letting you just wander around my village,” Clarke told her. 

Bellamy had to bite his lip from grinning. He’d never get sick of hearing how protective she had become of _her_ village. It was everything that he would have said if she hadn’t beaten him to it. After what happened in Polis, he was pretty certain that Raven would be able to be trusted eventually, but it was still a good idea to be a little cautious.

Lincoln nodded and he swept O into his arms and they were off, Monty and Murphy not far behind them. “Any requests?” Monty asked kindly.

“Food,” Raven groaned sarcastically, which only seemed to make Murphy’s grin grow wider. Normally, he’d have to keep an eye on the two of them, but he had bigger things to worry about. 

“Now you,” Clarke said, pointing at him. “And for fuck’s sake, if you say you’re fine one more time I’ll - ”

“You’ll what?” he teased. But he finally acquiesced and got back up on the bed.

“Pants off.”

“That doesn’t sound like much of a threat,” he teased and he could see it had the desired effect because a blush started creeping up in her cheeks and he saw a smile playing at the edge of her lips, struggling to keep her face stern and impassive.

“Do they always flirt like that?” he heard Raven ask Harper, who giggled.

“All the time.”

“Okay, let’s get this - what is this? A t-shirt?” she asked about the piece of cloth tied over his wound. He shrugged. “Do _you_ want the curtain?” Clarke asked pointedly, untying the shirt from the wound, watching carefully for active bleeding and he heard Raven let out a bark of laughter from her bed.

“I just want to get this over with. I’m tired and I just want sleep,” he mumbled, but managed to get his leg out of his pants. Sleep, hopefully not _alone_. The cold hit his leg and he let out a hiss at both the movement and the chill.

“Baby,” he heard Raven chuckle. He shot her a look and started rethinking the whole _letting her stay in their village_ thing.

\------------------------

**  
_2.5 weeks ago_   
**

“Roan, what the hell is taking so long? I’ve got a village to get back to. If Skaikru isn’t here today - ” Bellamy shouted at him.

“You’ll what? Leave? Ontari would have your head for disobeying a direct order. You and I both know she follows through on her threats.”

Bellamy stomped back across the room, slamming his fist into the wall. They’d been there two days and there was still no sign of the asshole. He still didn’t know what they’d been summoned for, and it was getting really old just hanging around. There were rumblings about making Skaikru another part of the coalition, which wasn’t surprising, but it gave Ontari more power and control and he wasn’t exactly a fan of that.

And his sister was pregnant and he didn’t want her in the middle of the mess as much as he could help it. 

“Bell, I’m sure they’ll show soon. We’ll only be a couple days late getting home, everything will be fine,” O tried to assure him. He nodded at her, but ran his hands through his hair. He was tired, and not getting any sleep because he was constantly on edge and he knew it was starting to show through. “I’ll take watch for a while, try and sleep, please? Hopefully they’ll get here by morning and we can leave the next day.”

Roan nodded at her too, but in a much more hesitant, nervous way, which didn’t do anything for his paranoia.

Skaikru finally showed up at noon the next day. People took to the streets to watch as they sauntered in. The one in front must have been Finn. He wasn’t intimidating to Bellamy at all, though he knew that was what Finn was trying to project by the way he stood and walked. He had no weapons that he could see, though the woman next to him had a rifle slung at her back and eyes narrowed at the people they passed. Not in a suspicious way, more like she was memorizing every inch and person. On his other side stood another man, tall with dirty blonde hair and snake-like eyes. He was armed to the teeth with guns. 

Ontari called them to the tower around dark. The actual meeting wouldn’t come to order until the next day, marking the day he was supposed to already be back at the village. He considered sending a messenger, but there wasn’t much to report yet. Lincoln and Anya had their orders and he knew he could trust them to run the village for a few extra days.

He hadn’t seen Ontari since they’d gotten to Polis, since he had no interest in being anywhere near her unless it was required of him. But she greeted him and O as they walked in. The other guards they’d come with were to wait outside with the other clan’s guards. 

“Floukru, welcome.”

“Heda,” Bellamy said, tipping his head instead of bowing - the most he could bear to greet her with. 

After the rest of the ambassadors showed up, they milled around greeting one another and friendly clans chatted up each other, catching up on how their summers had been, what had changed, what they thought the summit was for, etcetera. He saw O greet Indra, who had been close friends with their mother when they were younger. 

“What’s wrong, Bellamy?” he heard Ontari’s smooth voice ask from behind him. “You don’t want to be grumpy on this important day, do you?”

He turned around slowly, making sure his face projected indifference. She stood with Finn to her left, his face looking like he thought he was the most important person there. Bellamy had to repress an urge to curl his hand around the man’s neck, both out of principle and in defense of the woman he loved.. “What is this about, Heda? Why are we all here?” he asked.

“Careful Bellamy," she warned, her tone much sharper. "You wouldn’t be _demanding_ anything from your dear Heda, would you be?”

He remained silent.

“In any case, have you met Finn kom Skaikru? It is such a delight that he could join us here today.”

“Not exactly the word I would use.”

“What’s wrong Bellamy? Clarke causing problems with you too? She’s a difficult nightmare, isn’t she? Such a whiny piece of - ”

“You’d better think real carefully before finishing that sentence, _branwoda_ ,” Bellamy warned, hand balled into a fist. He was losing control, could feel himself want to slam this asshole into a wall.

Ontari interrupted him, though, letting out a shrill peal of fake laughter. Ontari would probably love nothing more than a fight, just so that she could have an excuse to kill one or both of them.

“Oh boys,” she said, her eerie smile taking over her features. “I am sorry, though, for sticking you with her Bellamy,” she said, not sounding all that sorry. Not that she needed to be. For as awful as the situation was that led Clarke to Sonchahou, he would be forever grateful it brought them together. But then she added, “Maybe we’ll have to remedy that,” and his heart dropped to the floor.

“What the hell does that mean?” he asked before he could even think of watching his tone. But she just let out another roar of laughter and drifted away.

\------------------------

Clarke finished with his leg fairly quickly, telling him it looked red but not infected yet. She stitched and dressed it, helping him with his pants, and her fingers grazed his thigh on the way up, sending waves of electricity through his veins. He couldn’t tell if she’d done it on purpose.

Murphy and Monty had returned to the clinic with arms full of food from Maya, but Bellamy wasn’t even that hungry; he just wanted to be alone with Clarke. He was exhausted and just wanted to curl her around him and kiss any part of her that she’d let him.

“Okay, so before you try talking me into spending the night here too… ” he started, suddenly worried that she wouldn’t let him go back to his cabin that night.

“You really should - ” she said, raising an eyebrow at him. 

“Not a chance.”

“ - I’m not going to make you.”

“Hey!” Raven protested.

“Your injury is far more unstable than his is. And all the other things I mentioned earlier still stand,” Clarke told her in a tone that cut off any discussion on the matter. 

“I’ll stay with her,” Murphy spoke up from the corner of the room, prompting all of their eyes to land on him. “Oh come on, don’t look so surprised.”

Raven snorted and Murphy glared at her. 

“Whatever, I just want my bed,” he said to no one in particular. 

He caught Clarke fiddling with her fingers and he reached out to steady them. He’d missed calming her nerves. She smiled at him, and looked up, but didn’t quite meet his gaze. “Um, I was thinking I could come with you? Sleep in the chair or - just so that someone was keeping an eye on your leg," she rambled.

He ran circles over the back of her hand. "Stop."

"Okay."

Harper and Monty left behind them, headed back to their cabin, Harper instructing Murphy to come get her immediately if there was any negative change with Raven and that she'd be by halfway through the night to take over watch. Murphy waved her off, and insisted he was fine. Then she very directly told Clarke to just ‘focus on Bellamy’, which made her blush.

The tips of his ears _also_ may have turned a little red and he had to bite his cheek from smiling too wide.

They walked into his cabin and he realized how much he’d missed it. But something was different and he instantly knew what it was. “You slept in here?”

She nodded, her face still flushed pink. “Not at first, I stayed in my cabin the first week, but when you didn’t come back…” she trailed off, and he heard her voice breaking a little. He knew she was starting to lose her calm from earlier.

“Hey,” he said, stepping forward, grabbing her hands. “I _did_ come back.”

She nodded again, furiously, blinking heavily, trying to stop herself from letting loose the tears that had pooled in the corners of her eyes. She groaned in frustration and started pacing. “I’m so… I was so _worried_ , Bell, and I swear I was just about to march off into the forest earlier after you when Murphy told me you’d been spotted. I just - I don’t want to lose you.” 

“Hey,” he said again, trying to capture her attention. “I’m right here, you aren’t going to lose me.” He hated how that sounded like a lie now. He had so much to tell her but he just couldn’t bear to. He knew what it was going to do to her. “I’m okay,” he amended, though that wasn’t quite right either. All the emotion and anxiety he’d shoved down in order to deal with the more immediate concerns, like him and Raven and O’s injuries, threatened to rear its ugly head. He felt like he was going to choke on it.

She buried her face in his chest. “Come on, it’s late. Everything can wait until tomorrow,” he tried to stall, though he knew it would never work with her. She needed the complete picture and she wasn’t going to stop until she had it.

But it might actually kill him to tell her.

“Come on, you need to get cleaned up and changed first, you’re filthy,” she told him. 

Once they’d gotten most of the dirt and grime off of him, Clarke washed his hair in the sink. He changed into clean clothes while Clarke got the fire going, and he climbed into bed, moaning when his head hit the pillow. Any other night, and he’d be perfectly content to drift off, but he wanted to savor every moment he had with her.

She climbed in next to him, and snuggled up to his side. He lifted his arm to put around her and she placed her head on his chest, drawing lazy circles on his chest with her finger.

“So you ready to talk about what happened?” she asked and he sighed.

“Clarke, can we do this tomorrow? I just - ”

“But - ”

He shifted and scooted down so he could face her on his side. One hand draped over her waist, tugging her close, as close as was humanly possible, and his other was between them, clutching her hand like it was a lifeline, and he kissed it softly. “Please. Look, I know you want to know and you deserve to know. But there’s so much and I can’t - ”

He was starting to lose it a little. He couldn’t bear to look at her, to see the hope and love, because yes, at this point, he knew she loved him. He felt it in his soul, wrapping around him and holding on tight. She placed a hand on his face, thumb wiping away the tears as they escaped.

Clarke leaned over and kissed his cheek. “Shh, it’s okay. I’m right here. You don’t have to talk about it until you’re ready.”

He’d never be ready, but at least he would get to put it off for a little while. 

He sighed and settled back into the pillows, and relished in the feeling of their bodies pressed against one another. “Tell me something. I missed the sound of your voice.”

“You did?” 

“I missed everything about you, Princess.”

He heard her sharp intake of breath and the slight squirm of her body as it tried to press even closer. He smirked and they were so close that even the slightest twitch of his lips threatened to close the gap. “I missed you too, Bell,” she whispered and he let out a slightly embarrassing sound in the back of his throat. 

He adjusted his head back a little, so he could look in her eyes properly. “So tell me something.”

“Hmm... Harper and Monty finally moved in together.”

He chuckled a little. “Murphy must be happy.”

“He is. I think he misses Monty more than he’ll ever let on though.”

“Sounds about right. You see how he was with Raven though?”

She let out a little breathy laugh that threatened to undo him. “I did. She’s beautiful. And very obstinate. I can see why he’d be interested.”

He chuckled. “What else?”

“You’re going to be an Uncle,” she said simply and he couldn’t help the smile that bloomed on his face. “I am. I’m so happy for her and Linc, but if I’m being honest, I’m a little annoyed that she took the risk she did by coming. She could’ve gotten hurt. Her and the baby.”

“But they’re fine,” she reminded him, always one to try to soothe his worries. 

“Yeah, thanks to the fact that I was close enough to jump in front of her to take that arrow.”

She hummed a little and he could tell that she wanted to ask for more details, and he knew it wasn’t fair, saying little tidbits like that here and there, but they were so happy and laughing and he wanted that to continue.

“What else?” he asked.

“Your mother is teaching me Trig.”

He felt his eyebrows shoot up. “She is?”

“Yep, been over there half a dozen times already. Even Murphy came with me and has been quizzing me. I’m getting pretty good.”

“ _Chich ai op gon Trigedasleng,_ ” he said to her, asking her to say something in Trig, wanting to hear his native language on her tongue.

She smiled for a moment before saying, “ _Hodnes nou laik kwelnes._ ”

“Love is not weakness,” he translated.

“You said that to me during that first week I was here. Did I say it right?!” she asked, sounding excited.

“You did, good job. You drove me all manner of crazy, but the way you spoke about Finn and what happened... I couldn’t let you think that it was all your fault just because you loved him,” he tried to explain.

“I never truly loved him,” she said, shaking her head. “Turns out, I didn’t even know what real love felt like.” 

There it was, that dance around what they were to each other. He made a promise to himself that after he told her everything, he’d tell her how he felt. He’d reassure her with his love and his lips that whatever was going to happen next, they’d face it together.

\------------------------

They woke up in the same position they’d fallen asleep in, their bodies pressed together tightly facing each other, her nose buried in his neck and his in her hair. They stirred at the same time, impossible for one to wake without the other since they were so entangled together.

“Hey,” he said, kissing the tip of her nose. She groaned and wiggled around a little until she finally cracked her eyes open. He started withdrawing his arm to stretch it out. As comfortable and as restful as the night had been, his muscles were aching. He sat up and she burrowed under the blankets even more, chasing the warmth his body had left behind. 

“How’s your leg?” she asked groggily, because of course the first thing she would be concerned with would be how he’s doing.

“Hurts,” he told her honestly. “But I can deal with it.” She hummed in response and he could tell that she was trying not to hover, trying to take him at his word, but that she itched to check it out. “I’ll tell you what, after breakfast, I’ll let you take a look at it.”

She smiled at that. “Yeah, okay. And I need to get over to Raven to check on her at some point. You even going to make it to the dining hall?” she teased. 

“Oh I think I can hobble myself over there,” he chuckled. Bellamy heard a knock at the door and got up to see who it could be and why he couldn’t he just have _one_ morning of peace after just getting back. He swung the door wide and looked down to see Murphy standing in the doorway, with a gigantic tray of food.

Bellamy looked down in confusion, though there wasn’t really anything to be confused about; it was pretty obvious what Murphy was doing there. “Murphy? What’s that for?” he asked anyway.

“Well, see, Blake, food is for _eating_ ,” he said with a smirk, pushing his way past Bellamy into the cabin. “I’m coming in! If there’s anyone who needs to cover up…” he trailed off, a shit-eating grin plastered on his features. 

“Shut up Murphy, I’m dressed,” Clarke said, annoyed.

“Uh huh. Anyway, brought you two breakfast.”

“That was weirdly nice of you… but we were just headed to the dining hall. I have things I need to check on now that I’m back and Clarke was going to check on Raven.”

“Nope, and nope,” Murphy declared, shaking his head. “Village is fine. Nothing big to report. And Raven is doing great, Harper changed her dressing already this morning and there’s no redness or swelling.”

“Still, we should - ”

“ - talk,” Murphy finished for him. “Raven told me about your trip last night,” he told Bellamy. And while he wasn’t really giving anything away, his eyes were dead serious and told him that he knew everything. Bellamy’s heart sank. “And I told everyone else, except Lincoln because O had already told _him_.” Murphy glanced quickly at Clarke before staring him down again.

“This isn’t - Murphy, I - ” he stammered and glanced at Clarke as well, who was sitting up, fiddling with her hands, quiet. She already knew there was something wrong, something he wasn’t telling her.

“Don’t do this man. You’re the most honest person I’ve ever known, except maybe your mother. And this isn’t the time to change that. Everything outside of this cabin is taken care of. Now it’s time for you to take care of things _inside_ the cabin.”

“Raven told you all about it, huh? Were you there all night? And since when do you trust people so quickly, Murphy?” he asked, one eyebrow raised, trying to deflect and stall even the tiniest bit. 

Murphy’s lips twitched a little, trying to keep the smirk off his face. “Uh, yeah, I figured Harper could use the sleep and - I dunno man, just got a good feeling.”

Bellamy nodded. He was glad Murphy seemed on the verge of something. He didn’t completely trust Raven himself, but he was glad Murphy had said that. He always had a good instinct on these things. He’d trusted Clarke almost immediately and had been right about that.

Murphy clapped him on the back, and dropped his voice. “ _Moba_ , brother,” he apologized. Bellamy bit the inside of his cheek and nodded again. Murphy left after and he just stared at the door after it shut behind him, afraid of what he’d see when he turned around. He knew he’d been able to put it off last night because he’d just gotten back and Clarke just wanted to be with him like he wanted to be with her, but there wasn’t going to be any stalling anymore.

She was going to want answers, she _deserved_ answers.

“Bell… ” she started and he turned around. “I - I know I said you could tell me when you’re ready, but whatever happened… Bell you’re scaring me. What does everyone know that I don’t?” 

His heart broke a little at that. “Yeah, okay,” he said, coming to sit down next to her, leaving the food where it was. He wasn’t hungry anymore.

When he let the silence sit for another minute, something seemed to snap, and she finally became frustrated. “Just say something! You’re driving me crazy over here. Whatever it is, just tell me. We’ll figure it out.”

He shook his head. “I’m sorry, I just - Clarke… I don’t really know how to say this. I - you - ” He put a hand in one of hers, holding on tight, and tried to push down the emotion threatening to spill from his eyes. “Ontari wants you in Polis,” he said. It wasn’t everything, was barely anything, but it was a start.

She looked confused. “Is that it? I mean, it’s not like I _want_ to see that psycho, but it’s not that big of a deal. I can - ”

“No, Clarke, that’s not it - ” 

“I should’ve just gone with you on this last trip, then we wouldn’t have to go a second time.” She looked off, like she was trying to make all the pieces fit. “I - I don’t understand, how did that request result in a fight? Or you being gone that long?” She was asking question after question now that the floodgates had opened. “How long does she want me there?”

And there it was. The question he’d been avoiding.

“For good,” he said softly.

She started shaking her head in disbelief. “I don’t - did Finn make another deal? He can’t do that, fuck that, I’m not going,” she said indignantly, like he knew she would. “Bell - I’m not going. Finn can’t just trade me around like some - ”

“Finn is dead, Clarke.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *runs and hides*
> 
> At least he's back and they're all mostly in one piece?  
> And O is pregnant!  
> And Raven is there! And has apparently caught a certain cockroach's eye...  
> And McCreary is dead!  
> And Ontari is evil! Seriously guys, I feel like she's already pretty evil in canon, and that if she'd gotten the chance to fully reign, she probably would have put Sheidheda to shame. So this is that.
> 
> But I will remind you, HAPPY ENDING. 
> 
> More flashbacks coming in the next chapter as we get to see more of what the hell happened in Polis.
> 
> Also, I may have a weakness for bed-sharing scenes.
> 
> Come check out the amazing moodboard grounderkingbellamy made for this fic [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488)!
> 
> You may have noticed that I put an estimated chapter end count. I'm currently writing 25, so I'm able to guess how much I've got left based on where I am. That might (and will probably) change, but I wanted to at least give you all a ball park.
> 
> Hope everyone sort-of enjoyed that? Is that the right word?
> 
> In any case, thank you all for reading and I hope you all stay safe and healthy!  
> See you Friday!


	17. Chapter 17

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey! Getting this out a little later, but it's long and lots of personal stuff to get done today too, so sorry!
> 
> But it's here!
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy and I really appreciate each and everyone who has been reading and enjoying, or yelling, or crying, or even if it just made you smile even a little at some point, or even if you gave it a shot and it wasn't your thing. THANK YOU!! ❤

**_2 weeks ago_ **

Bellamy was going out of his mind. He and O had been in this cell for two days, pacing around, trying to get the guards’ attention. When he shook the bars for the tenth time in the last twenty minutes, he felt O put a hand on his shoulder, but he shook it off, not wanting to be comforted right now.

“Bell, that isn’t going to work. All you’re doing is wasting energy. You’re not sleeping, you’re not eating. If we’re going to get out of here, you’ve got to _stop_ and _think_ ,” she pleaded. He slammed his hand on the bars once more and turned his back to them, sliding against them to the ground. He hung his head in his hands. “I’m worried about home too,” she continued. “I want to get back there as much as you do, but Ontari is never going to let us out of here if she thinks we’re still a danger to her.”

“I _am_ a danger to her. I’m going to wring her fucking neck with my BARE HANDS!” he shouted behind him. 

Octavia scoffed. “I know you’re hurting, I know you’re scared. And I know you’re furious, believe me, I am too. But that isn’t the smart play here. You can’t just kill the Commander, Bellamy, you know that. All that’s going to accomplish is getting _you_ killed. And possibly me, and possibly your unborn niece or nephew.”

“That’s low,” he told her, but it had the effect she’d wanted it to and he started forcing himself to calm down. 

She shrugged and smirked at him. “Maybe. But that doesn’t make it any less true. And it’s not going to save Clarke from this and it’s not going to be what’s best for Sonchahou,” she pointed out and he hated it when she was the rational one. “We have to get home and figure out the best way to stop this from happening. We can’t do that from this dungeon.” 

When Ontari had started the summit two days ago, he had practically been vibrating from anxiety. Her little teaser the night before about “remedying” the situation with Clarke had been running through his mind on a loop. Then she’d announced that while she had told Finn she was going to gather the coalition to make Skaikru the thirteenth clan, that she had decided that it would be safer for her if she simply absorbed Skaikru as part of Azgeda, so that when the Ark finally came down, they’d have to choice but to be loyal to her.

She had determined that Finn would betray her as willingly as he had betrayed the others in his camp and she couldn't take that risk. She sauntered around the room like a shark circling its prey. As if Bellamy didn’t already have a terrible feeling about the whole situation, a pit in his stomach as she finally walked over to Finn.

Everyone was deathly silent as she approached him, probably having the same feeling Bellamy did, and Finn glared daggers at her. He opened his mouth to try to argue with Ontari, insisting that she had his loyalty, but she silenced him with her dagger to his throat, holding it there so if he even swallowed too heavily his throat would be slit.

She told him that as soon as he’d arrived, she’d offered Dax and Raven a position in her ranks in exchange for betraying him and making sure he stayed in the dark until that moment. She announced that Raven had refused, spitting at her instead, so she’d been thrown in the dungeon until she decided on her consequence.

Dax took the offer.

She told him that his armory, supplies, and technology were hers now, but that she knew he wouldn’t give up power without a fight, and she’d decided to make an example of what would happen if she was disobeyed. 

_Let all who are here witness my unyielding power_ , she’d said.

Then she drew her sword and beheaded him in front of everyone, smiling as her face splattered with his blood. 

Bellamy instantly pushed Octavia behind him, to her irritation, but he didn’t care. He wasn’t taking any chances with her.They drew their own swords, like the rest of the ambassadors and poised for a fight, not really sure if Ontari had anyone else on her chopping block. 

She told them all to put their swords away before they were taught the same lesson as Skaikru. She informed them that any attempt Skaikru made to get their weapons or tech back from her control would be met with lethal force, and she would exterminate every Skaikru member remaining. They would be allowed only spears to hunt with, and she had already sent warriors to the dropship to take command and lead.

He and Octavia had exchanged glances, his heart dropping when they seemed to realize at the same time that any request for Miller and/or Jasper would, at best, fall on deaf ears, at worst - they’d be killed. But now Miller and Jasper were effectively prisoners of Azgeda, and they’d have to come up with another way to get them out.

That made it so much harder.

But it was nothing compared to how hard it was when Ontari approached him, his muscles tensing in preparation for a fight at whatever it was she was about to tell him. 

She informed him that she was ordering Clarke’s presence in Polis. Floukru was not an appropriate clan for her anymore. She needed to be kept an eye on after her absorption of Skaikru in case she had any ideas to seize control of the remainder of the dropship. And according to Dax, Clarke was a daughter of a council member and therefore made the perfect leverage for the rest of the Ark, in case they decided to attempt resistance upon their arrival.

So, Ontari explained, she had arranged for her brother Roan to take her as his wife, sealing the bond of the two people even further. The bond could only be broken by death of one or both, as marriage across all twelve clans was considered sacred.

Bellamy’s heart had stopped completely for a few minutes before restarting again, powered by fury and outrage.

He’d tried arguing with her, even going so far as to beg that she not take Clarke, tried to rationalize it as needing a healer for his village, though he knew Harper was extraordinarily capable at this point. His voice must’ve betrayed his feelings though, because Ontari just got a sneer on her face and told him just because Clarke was good in bed was not a good enough reason to make her reconsider and that he should try to find someone else to keep him warm at night.

As if that was all Clarke was to him, some replaceable warm body for his pleasure.

He almost threw up. 

So he’d attacked. He rushed Ontari without thinking, Octavia yelling at him to stop, to stay back. Ontari had been furious, it was only O’s pleading that kept his head on his shoulders. She told her that he was a leader, an ambassador and that the other ambassadors might not take kindly to his demise. So instead, Ontari had them thrown down in the cells to cool off. 

Now it was two days later and his rage still roared. While in the cell, he was still having a hard time processing all of what he’d seen and heard. There was no way he was letting Clarke go, no way he was letting Ontari or Roan get their hands on her, despite the fact that Roan looked almost as angry as he did. It sickened Bellamy to think of Clarke being Azgeda, of her being forced to marry someone she did not love or want, of her not being with _him_ anymore, ripped away from her home. 

“Octavia, what am I going to tell her?” he asked, sleep deprivation finally overtaking him and he shut his eyes, letting his head rest against the bars. 

“You’re going to tell her the truth. You’re going to tell her you love her, that you’re going to fight for her. That no matter what happens, she’s not alone. That we will all fight for her.”

He nodded, tears streaming down his face freely. Octavia scooted closer to him and put her head down on his shoulder. They alternated sitting like that and pacing around the room for another week before Ontari sent a guard to let them out, instructing them to prepare Clarke for retrieval, and the consequences of what would happen if they refused.

However, before they left, they’d noticed another prisoner, hiding in a cell at the end of the hall. Raven had been there a few days longer than they had. Her and O had started talking, gaining as much information as they could from the woman. Raven sobbed, told them everything that happened, how she’d found out that Clarke had been telling the truth the whole time and that Finn had threatened her to keep quiet, how she had been trying - unsuccessfully - to contact the Ark for reinforcements behind his back.

She begged them to help her get out, to take her to the village by the ocean, like Clarke had told her to come to when she’d realized the truth. So when the guard finally let them out, but refused to allow Raven to leave, he and O doubled teamed the guard and grabbed the keys, letting Raven out as well. They did their best to sneak out of the tower, but Roan stopped them just as they were getting to the ambassadors’ quarters where the remainder of their group were being quarantined until they were released. 

He apologized, assured them that he’d had no idea and hated what his sister was planning to do, but that the best he could do for the situation at the moment was let them run, let them go and prepare for when Ontari sent the warriors for Clarke. 

Bellamy had been furious and was in the middle of shouting obscenities at him when their argument alerted nearby Azgeda warriors to the commotion. They’d barely been able to fight their way out, Raven saving his life by pushing him out of the way of a flying knife, only to have him step in front of an arrow aimed at Octavia. Raven busted through the old bridge on their way back, a route that he’d remembered from one of his first trips to Polis.

The only thing that kept him going was the thought that if he could just get home, they’d figure it out. They’d negotiate or something, somehow. 

He just needed to get to her.

He couldn’t lose her.

***

“I don’t care who she is or what she wants. She doesn’t get to decide where I go and who I am and who _I_ choose to be with!” Clarke insisted. Ever since he’d gotten home, gotten back to her, there was something there, simmering just below the surface of every embrace, every look, every word from him. When he finally finished explaining what had happened during his trip, why he’d been delayed, that he’d almost gotten himself _killed_ , she couldn’t decide whether to smack him or kiss him.

She knew it was bad. You don’t just take an arrow for no reason. You don’t get bruises and scrapes and wounds for no reason. You don’t come back 2 weeks too late for no reason.

She knew it was bad.

But there was _no way_ this was happening again. 

She had a family, a home, a man she loved. To rip her away from all of that was threatening to tear her apart from the inside out. She could feel herself slipping, shaking in the face of the words he was saying to her.

“I know. I’m not going to let them do this, Clarke. You belong here, with me, with us,” he told her, steady and sure, but his voice cracked a little towards the end and she knew he was struggling to hold it together. He stood in front of her with his hands on her shoulders, and he was probably in pain from having overused his leg and she was about to tell him he really should sit down, but she needed him to hold her, to squeeze too tight, to ground her.

“I belong here,” she repeated his reassurances. Then her panic eased just enough for her rage to leak through. “Fuck this. She can’t possibly think you’re just going to hand me over, does she? Or that I’d just up and leave my home? Is she _that_ delusional? What about this village needing a healer? That was why I was here in the first place! I am not some good she can trade around as she pleases!” she yelled and gestured around.

He bit his lip and ran his hands through his hair, straightening his posture a little. “Clarke. I don’t - no. She’s not - ” he barely breathed out. 

“There’s still something you’re not telling me,” she deduced. 

_What else could there possibly be?_

“Bellamy, why would she think that I’d go with her? That I’d actually marry Roan and live as Azgeda?”

He just stared at her, a slight tremble to his limbs. She tried to put a hand on his chest to steady him, but it was like that ignited him, because he tore himself away and started pacing, slamming a hand against every conceivable surface in his cabin. The noises he was making in the back of his throat sounded like an animal that had been cornered. 

“Bellamy, stop. Nothing she said is going to change anything.”

He whined a little, low and sad. “You don’t know that.”

“Then for the love of - shit, _everything_ , just tell me!” He was breathing heavily, but still made no sound. “Fuck, Bellamy say _something_!” she all but shouted.

“I can’t. I can’t tell you. The second I do, I lose you. I know exactly what you’ll say, exactly how you’ll react. And I can’t do it. Once I say it, once you know, there’s no going back. Please, can we just - I don’t know. Fuck!” He wasn’t making sense, his eyes squeezing shut.

Tears were streaming down both their faces, her heart pounding a mile a minute. 

“If you don’t tell me, I can’t fix it. I can’t help figure a way out of it. Please, Bellamy.”

“You don't get it! There is _no fixing it_. I’ve spent _two weeks_ trying to figure this shit out. There’s not enough _time_. And even if I flat out say no, put my foot down, _forbid it_ even, you’ll still go. That’s who you are. Selfless. And I get it. I’d do the same thing. Normally I wouldn’t hesitate to throw myself in front of the sword, but just this _one time_ can’t I be selfish? Can’t I just hold you and want you and not lose you?”

“Leaders don’t get to be selfish, Bellamy.”

“You’re a better leader than I am then. And I need you here, with me, helping me lead.” He crossed quickly to her, wrapping his hands around her cheeks, his fingers so long they almost touched at the back of her head through her hair and he tilted his forehead down on hers. They were so close she could practically taste his tears.

“Just say it, Bell,” she said again, almost positive at that point that she knew what it was he wasn’t saying. After everything he’d said, there was only one scenario that would fit what he was saying. 

And he wasn’t wrong about how she’d react.

He _was_ going to lose her.

“She threatened to wipe out the village if I didn't turn you over, if you didn't go with her,” he finally choked out, voice broken and small.

If he hadn’t had such a firm grip on her, if he wasn’t anchoring her firmly to him, she would’ve crumpled. Her legs felt like jelly, like if he let go, she’d melt into the floor.

“Then I have to go.”

He squeezed his eyes shut even harder. “No. No. Fuck that. Fuck Azgeda, fuck Ontari. I can’t lose you. I won’t let this happen. They can’t have you. Let someone else from Skaikru go. You aren’t Skaikru anyway, you are Floukru, and _they can’t have you_.”

She had no immediate response, there was nothing that she could say that would make the inevitable hurt any less. 

Because he was right; she would always put the wellbeing of her home and family and friends above herself. She would never do anything that would put them in danger.

“You are many things, Bellamy Blake. But selfish has never been one of them. And I know you won’t be selfish now. You won’t let someone else, even Skaikru, endure whatever it is Ontari has planned because you - you don't want me to leave.” He broke down even more at her words, which tore her heart apart even further, and she tried to will the broken pieces of hers to mend the cracks in his. “I won’t do that to somebody. I have to do this. I have to go. This is how we save our people. This is how we keep our family and Sonchahou safe. This is how we save our people,” she repeated, breaking down too. One of his hands on her cheeks moved to her waist and tugged her closer. Her hands were on his chest, his perfectly toned, strong chest that held the heart of someone more brave and loving and determined than anyone she’d ever met. 

“ _Yu laik ai kru,_ ” he let out in barely a whisper.

_You are my people._ He said it with such strength, such determination and conviction that it threatened to undo her completely.

“Oh Bell…” she breathed. “You don’t think if there was another way, that I would take it? I want to be here, with you, more than anything. _Yu laik ai kru_ too, Bellamy. My heart is physically hurting at the thought of being separated from you. But I… I love you, I’m so completely and unconditionally _in_ love with you, and I can’t be with you. I’m so sorry.”

She said it. 

She needed him to hear the words come out of her mouth so he could commit them to his memory, to know that even if they can’t be together, that no matter how much time they had together, he had forever changed her. That she’ll always love him.

He was her lighthouse, helping her find her way when all she saw was darkness. He gave her peace and hope when she’d lost all hers. He breathed life into her soul and gave her a strength that surpassed her own limitations. He was her Earth, keeping her anchored down so she wouldn’t float away. 

It was a combination of all those things that made her do what she did next. She didn’t even have to think about it.

There was nothing to think about.

She closed the gap between them, their tears mixing with the feel of their lips. It was so sweet, and so much _more_ than she’d ever imagined it would be. He gripped her waist tighter, and she could feel his heart speed up under her hands. She wouldn’t - couldn’t - let it go any farther than this, despite what the flips in her stomach and the goosebumps erupting all over skin begged of her. She ached to feel him all over, to feel him with every sensation her body held, but that would make it too hard to do what she needed to do.

They were both selfless people, always putting everyone else above themselves. But just for that moment, they could have this. Have the moment they’d denied themselves since all the way back on the beach during the bonfire. 

They parted with heavy breaths, just staring into one another, swallowing heavily and hands that stayed steadily on the other. 

“Clarke, I lo - ”

“No,” she breathed. “No. Please don’t say it. It’s not fair, I know it’s not and I’m sorry, I’m so sorry. But I have to - to walk away and it would break me. I love you and I have to walk away, but I can’t have those words from your mouth, your voice in my mind as I do it. Not until we know we can be together again. Not until we figure a way out of this.” 

She knew he loved her, knew it like she knew the sun was bright and the grass was green, and the sky was blue. She knew it, but she couldn’t hear it. Not yet. 

He nodded, understanding. The words were clearly still right there, still on the other side of his lips, his perfectly soft, slightly swollen lips, but he kept them restrained there. 

“I will find out a way around this. There has to be another way. I will save the village _and_ you,” he vowed.

“You still have hope?”

“Are we still breathing?”

She tilted her head down so it rested on his chest for a moment before lifting it up again. “Just, kiss me. Please. Kiss me so I can take it with me?”

He was still nodding when his lips came crashing down on hers, this one more desperate, more intense than their first. They couldn’t get enough of each other, but even everything wouldn’t ever be enough. 

“I will find you. I will get you back. I don’t care how hard I have to fight, how dark it gets, I won’t stop. I promise,” he whispered to her when they parted to take a breath. 

Oxygen suddenly seemed unimportant in the grand scheme of things.

“I believe you. I love you,” she said again, knowing how unfair it was that she was saying it to him but not letting him say it back. So she let him say it with his lips, with his tongue, with his hands.

And she didn’t fight it when he pushed them forward, walking her backwards towards the bed. There seemed to be some unspoken understanding between them that all it would be was this, kissing and holding each other while they still could. Her whole body felt like it was on fire and he was the one who lit the match.

It had to be after lunchtime by the time they stopped, both out of breath, and just laying together on his bed, the breakfast Murphy brought with his ominous message still untouched on the table. 

His bed that smelled like him, felt like him. She’d spent significantly less time there than her own, yet that was where she felt the most at home. 

“How long do I have?” she finally asked. 

“They’ll be here tomorrow.” 

She let a little whine escape from her throat and he reflexively pulled her closer. “Okay,” she told him. “And Murphy said the rest of them already know?”

“Apparently,” he said, a little irritated.

“Okay. Okay,” she repeated. They couldn’t stay in the cabin forever. There were preparations to be made, things to pack, places she wanted to go before she had to leave. 

“Clarke - ”

“No, it’s fine. I can do this.”

“It’s okay to not be okay.”

“Nothing is okay, not anymore. But Sonchahou will be, our family will be, _you_ will be. Everyone will be fine without me, they have _you_ ,” she insisted.

“Who cares about everyone?” he mumbled, though she knew he didn’t mean it. His people, his family was the most important thing in the world to him. “What about me? I won’t be fine without you.”

“Our people need you to be.”

He nodded, clearly not wanting to spend their last day arguing.

“Can I take your jacket?” she asked suddenly. She needed something tangible to hold onto when her mind and heart would inevitably try to protect itself by pretending the past few months didn’t happen. That they weren’t real. They _were_ real. 

“Princess, you can have whatever you want.”

She smiled, so in love with this amazing man. “I need to go, I need to get packed, check on Raven, talk to Harper about medical… stuff… ” She was trailing off, getting distracted by the lists in her head. “You should rest.”

He shook his head. “Not a chance,” he insisted. “Besides, I should check on O.”

“I’ll come with you, on my way to see Raven. Then I’ll meet you on the beach after dinner? I know it’ll be cold but - ”

“I’ll see you there.”

She nodded, and gave him another quick kiss. They ate off the tray of food while they got dressed, then they left, hand in hand as they walked the path to O and Lincoln’s.

***

Bellamy was barely holding himself together. She was so fucking brave, braver than he was. More selfless than he could ever hope to be. He had to find a way out of this, had to figure out something else Ontari wanted that he could use to stop it from happening.

But at the moment, he knew she just needed to be held and supported. But the second she left, he wouldn’t stop, couldn’t stop until she was back home, back to him and her family. She was wrong, everyone wouldn’t be fine without her; they needed her.

He slumped in the chair next to O and Lincoln’s fire, somehow exhausted despite his full night’s sleep. His leg was killing him, but he didn’t want to take the focus off of his sister and Raven. He was pretty sure he could trust Raven, she’d saved his life and was duped by Finn even more than Clarke was. He’d give her a chance at least. If there was one thing Clarke had taught him in the time she’d been here, it was that people aren’t always what you think. 

“Okay, O, how’re you feeling?” Clarke asked.

“Tired, nauseous, cranky.” 

Clarke smiled, “So normal pregnancy stuff then, it would seem,” she told her, earning her a laugh from his sister. “You, uh, let m - Harper know if anything at all changes okay?” He could see Clarke holding back her emotions, trying to shut them down. “I’m… I’m sorry I might not be here for you, to see you become a mother. But I love you always, okay, and I’ll try to see if I can come visit at some point.”

Octavia's face hardened. “No, you won’t have to visit, because you’ll be here. Bell will - ”

“O - ” he interrupted. It broke his heart to hear his sister so confidently defending the situation. He agreed with her, that he’d find a way to get her back. He had to. 

“No. This is not happening, not by a long shot. I’m not letting you go, none of us are.”

“I have to, Octavia, at least for a while. I’ll stall as long as I can, work the situation once I’m in Polis,” Clarke tried to tell her, sitting down next to her on the bed. “But I… I won’t let anything happen to any of you. So if it comes down to it, I’m going to do what I have to.” Octavia turned away from Clarke and Bellamy could see the effort it was taking her to not argue. “I love you, O. You gave me a purpose and a family when I had nothing.”

“I love you too, Clarke.” Octavia wrapped her arms around Clarke’s neck.

There was that word again. Love. The word that seemed the best to describe but was still wholly inadequate to encompass the entirety of his feelings towards her. He understood why she couldn’t hear it, why it would be too difficult, but he wanted so badly, _ached_ to explain all the different reasons and ways he loved her. 

Hearing Clarke Griffin tell him that she was in love with him hit his heart and soul in a way that he’d never expected. He knew it would be incredible and life-shattering to finally hear it, but it transcended any vocabulary he had. It was burned into his brain and his heart, like she was. 

It also hurt like hell. That was definitely there too. But he’d carry that weight alone. She didn’t need to share the burden of his pain along with her own.

“Okay, your turn,” she said, turning to face him. “You staying here or coming with me to Raven?” 

“Yeah, I’m right behind you,” he told her, groaning as he stood up. She gave him a dubious look, almost like she was going to argue that he should stay put, but he knew she didn’t want to give up time together anymore than he did. “Okay, go on ahead, I’ll be there in a minute.” She nodded, and hesitated only briefly before stretching up on her toes to give him a quick peck on the lips and then left without another word.

“Hey big brother,” O started, looking up at him with unshed tears. Lincoln came over and clapped him on the shoulder. 

“Hey. You doing okay? How’s that baby?” Bellamy asked, leaning over to kiss her forehead.

“Far as I know, we’re doing alright.”

“Tough, like their mother,” Lincoln inputed proudly. He nodded in agreement with that.

“How’re you? You doing alright?” she asked, as he started for the door.

“No,” he let out a sarcastic chuckle. “I’m really, really not.”

\------------------------

By the time he entered the clinic, he saw Clarke was not the only one there with Raven. Harper, Monty, and Murphy were all sitting quietly around the room, while Clarke was busy arguing with Raven.

“I don’t get it. It was just a stupid nail, why can’t I walk on it?”

Clarke sighed. “I don’t know Raven, it’s not like we have an x-ray machine, this isn’t the Ark. And I’m far from the surgeon my mother was - is.” She turned and saw Bellamy come in. She gave him a small smile and nodded over to one of the beds. 

The walk from O and Lincoln’s hadn’t been long, but his leg was screaming at him. He tried to hop on the bed and landed less than gracefully back on the floor. He let out a small hiss and Murphy and Monty came rushing over to lend their shoulders to help him up. Clarke narrowed her eyes at his obvious discomfort and he was sure he was going to hear later about how he should’ve just stayed at his own cabin for the day to rest.

“Well _he_ ,” Raven gestured wildly towards Bellamy. “ - took a fucking _arrow_ to the leg and he’s walking sort-of fine. An arrow is way bigger than a nail!” she protested.

Monty got up and walked over to her. “Think of it like a mechanic or an engineer, Raven. You studied under Sinclair just like me, I know you know this stuff.”

“Well, yeah. Youngest zero-G mechanic in 50 years.” Monty and Clarke both nodded in acknowledgement, but none of that made sense to the rest of them. But Raven seemed proud, so it must’ve meant something.

“Right. So in terms of machinery. Sometimes it only takes hitting _just_ the right spot, no matter how small it is, and the whole thing stops working. It doesn’t matter how strong or big the machine is, if you find the weak spot, that’s all you need. What Clarke is saying is that nail, no matter how small it was, probably hit just the wrong spot. A nerve or something.”

“Monty’s right. And it could heal on its own, or it might not. Monty will work with you to find a brace that will help you walk until we - _you_ know for sure whether it’s permanent or not. I’m sorry I won’t be here to help you anymore. But Harper is amazing, and she’ll make sure infection stays away and the wound itself heals fine.”

Every goodbye she said made it worse, made it more real. He noticed the room had gone silent, and Harper was holding back a sob. Monty moved to grip her hand tightly. 

“Come on guys. It’ll be okay. You all spent your whole lives without me, you’ll all be fine while I’m gone. And this isn’t over, I’m going to try to find a way back here. But if I can’t... just stay safe and healthy and happy, okay?”

“Clarke, I should’ve believed you. If I had, maybe we wouldn’t be here and you wouldn’t have to go,” Raven said quietly.

“It’s not your fault Raven, it is what it is and I can’t… it’s not your fault. The people here, this village, it’s amazing. And I hope you can be trusted enough to stay.” Then she addressed the rest of them. “Now can we just enjoy our evening and dinner? I really don’t want my last night here to be all gloomy.”

“I will,” Raven assured her. And while the two women weren’t friends just yet, and had a horrible history, there was a shared experience between them that Bellamy knew was a part of both of them. 

There wasn’t much conversation after that, Clarke checked his wound, noting that the redness was getting worse, probably from overuse, and that Harper needed to keep a close eye on it. If it started getting infected, she demanded that he stay off of it completely and change the dressings every hour. 

She left the clinic then, needing to go get some stuff from her cabin together before the next day. When he offered to go with her, to help, she told him to just rest there and she’d be back soon. 

She came back about an hour or so later, the sun starting it’s descent. Normally sunsets would be beautiful, and he loved taking in the orange and pink sky. But all it signified for him now was that tomorrow was getting closer and he was one step away from saying goodbye to her. 

Dinner came and true to Clarke’s request, they all joked and laughed and made fun of each other like usual. The elephant in the room was prevalent but not dominating, so it was almost easy to imagine that this was anything _but_ her last night for who knew how long with them. 

He was marking time with detached attention, like bullet points on a list. And at the bottom of the list would be the time to say goodbye to her himself, and despite how not ready for that he was, he knew it would come regardless. 

They got to the beach and he turned his attention to the chest of blankets, pulling them out to get them situated on the cold sand. They wouldn’t be able to spend much time out there, it was too chilly. But he understood her need to be near the water. Polis was completely landlocked and it would be a little while before she’d get to see it again. However, he wasn’t prepared for her to take off her shoes before he could stop her.

“What the hell are you doing? Seriously you’re going to get frostbite Clarke.”

“I don’t care. Not even a little bit. I want to feel the water on my feet one last time.”

“That might be the last thing you feel on your feet for a while,” he teased.

“Shut up. Just sit down, would you? I’ll be back in a minute.”

He did as he was told, watching her from a distance. She stepped in the waves, and even from where he was sitting he could see her visibly shake from the chilly water. But he knew how important it was to her, so he remained patient. When she was done a few minutes later, she ran back to him and collapsed next to him.

“Okay, let me in,” she said, tugging at the blankets. He chuckled and opened them up to her, but instead of tucking her into his side, he maneuvered around her so she sat with her back against his chest between his legs. It was an extremely intimate position to be in, but he could control himself, as much as he just wanted to let go. 

She crossed her legs, tucking her bare feet under his thighs, making him hiss. “Shit, your toes are like ice, Clarke!”

“Why do you think I put them there? You are practically my very own space heater,” she joked. He didn’t even really know what a space heater was, but it wasn’t hard to figure out. 

“I’m yours, huh?” he asked, not being able to resist.

She turned her head so her ear was over his heart and he didn’t even try to flinch away from her hearing how rapid it was beating. Not anymore. She could have however much and whatever she wanted of him. He didn’t want anything hidden left between them.

“Yeah. And I’m yours.” She said it like a fact, reminding him that even if he didn’t say how he truly felt out loud, she knew it. She was trying to give him that small measure of comfort knowing how much it must be hurting him to not say it. She was the one being kidnapped away the next day and somehow she was still comforting _him_. She’d been doing that all day, reassuring every one _else_ that they’d be okay.

He tightened the blanket and his arms around her in response. It didn’t require anything verbal. They were already tied together, interwoven in a way that would be impossible to separate. He didn’t know how or when their relationship got this intense, this quickly, but he was so grateful it had. 

“Do me a favor?” she asked after a while.

“Anything.”

“Say goodbye to your mother for me? It’s late and I didn’t get a chance to go over today and I just… she means a lot to me. She helped me a lot while you were gone. Tell her that for me?” she asked, voice breaking. 

“Of course.”

She took a deep breath. “Can I ask you something?” He hummed, encouraging her to go on. She already knew she could ask him anything she wanted. “What - what did you wish for? On the falling stars that night?”

He inhaled sharply. The plan was to tell her when he got back, his promise to her for returning. It felt wrong now, to tell her, like it would just make things harder. Then he had an idea. Another promise. 

He leaned down so he could whisper to her. “I’ll tell you when you get back.” Then he placed a kiss just below her ear and he both heard and felt the little sound that it elicited. 

He readjusted them so he could continue kissing down her neck, warming her cold skin with his lips, wanting to hear more of the little noises she could make. Her arm came up so her hand could tangle in his hair, her nails scratching slightly on his scalp. A noise that he didn’t even know he could make rumbled deep in his throat, and he caught sight of the smirk on Clarke’s lips and passively wondered what her smile would feel like against his skin. He reached around with one hand to reach across her cheek and kept one hand on her waist, a few of his fingers slipping under the hem of her shirt to feel her skin. She craned her neck further back so he could capture her mouth with his, and the contact broke something in both of them.

She twisted her body around so she was straddling him, and he worked to adjust the blankets so she’d stay covered, him hardly needing them anymore with the heat coursing through his veins. Her kisses turned more passionate, both of her hands in his hair, tugging slightly, driving him crazy, while he held onto her waist. 

He had to consciously work to keep control instead of throwing her backwards onto the blanket like his body was desperately begging him to do. 

They didn’t come up for air for who knew how long, and only stopped when he felt shiver after shiver roll through her body.

They walked back to his cabin where he lit a fire to warm the space while she climbed in the bed. A few more lazy kisses later, taking the time to savor each point of contact, each glide of their lips, they finally drifted off, him after her. He wanted to make sure she was sufficiently covered, and wanted to memorize as much of that moment as possible.

***

Clarke woke up the next morning, bright and early and fully aware of where she was and what was about to happen. She’d cried most of her tears the day before and all she wanted was to snuggle up as close as physically possible to Bellamy’s side and feel the twitch of his abdominal muscles as her fingers danced across his chest.

She should let him sleep, it was really early still and they couldn’t have fallen asleep more than five or so hours ago, but she was going to have to get up soon and she didn't want to miss the way his eyes barely cracked open when he was starting to wake up, or the crinkle his nose made, or the sleepy groan as he stretched. It was things like that she wanted to take with her. 

Sure enough, after she’d finished the outline of a tree across his chest, his nose started it’s crinkle and she reached up with her thumb to smooth it out. Without opening his eyes he reached up to capture her hand in his and brought it to his lips and kissed each of her knuckles before resting her palm against his cheek and nuzzling into it.

She savored the feel of his rough cheek against her hand, the scruff from the beard he always had difficulty keeping from getting too long. She knew he preferred it completely smooth in the summer but she wondered if he’d grow it out now that it was cold and a fresh wave of sadness rocked her as she realized she might not get a chance to find out. Then another wave came in behind it, this one of determination that she would.

She tried to memorize the exact placement of the innumerous freckles that were scattered across his face and the way his brown eyes seemed a little lighter in color when he looked at her once he’d finally opened them. The perfectly bronze tone of his skin and the sharpness of his jawline. 

He hummed a little while she used her fingers to stroke his face, touching as lightly as she could. 

“I have to get up now.”

“No,” he said firmly, gripping her with a strength that made his arm flex hard.

“I wish I could stay. I’m so sorry.”

“Come with me.”

“What?”

“You and me. Screw everybody else. Let’s just… go.”

He didn’t mean it, she knew that. But still, she was tempted to say yes. To follow him into oblivion. To live out their days in the forest, walking along the coast until they found some untouched territory even Ontari couldn’t get her hands on. It would be so easy. But she couldn’t abandon her people. And he wouldn’t, no matter what words came out of his mouth.

“No,” she said simply. He nodded, already knowing that would be her answer. “We’ll figure something out. Roan doesn’t seem that bad - ”

“Don’t say his name right now, please.”

“Sorry. I just mean, not to marry, obviously, but he’ll help stall, won’t he? He can’t want this.”

Bellamy sighed and they finally sat up. “No, I don’t think he does. He was as blindsided as we were. I don’t trust him, though. And you shouldn’t either.”

She nodded, considering that for a moment. “I’m not going quietly,” she said. It wasn’t in her to take things lying down. She didn’t have any exact plans, but she definitely wasn’t going to just roll over and bow down to a bloodthirsty dictator.

He chuckled. “I wouldn’t expect you to.”

“I won’t overdo it, I don’t want her to retaliate against you, but I… I’m not exactly the type to fall in line.”

“I remember.”

She surged forward and kissed him and he responded instantly. 

Eventually they tore themselves apart, and finished getting ready in silence. As she was getting her pack on her back, someone knocked softly on the door. She set it back down slowly and they both froze, looking at each other.

There it was. 

She walked over when it was clear he wasn’t going to, and opened it. She didn’t even have time to see who it was before he was all over her, wrapping his slim arms around her neck. She squeezed Murphy back, surprised at the show of affection, even if they were close. And they were. He got her, knew how she felt, and refused to let go when she pushed. He was the one who didn’t believe she was leaving for good when she’d walked out. 

He stepped back finally looking incredibly embarrassed and not at all like he’d planned that. She glanced back to see Bellamy’s small smile and downward glance. 

“Hey Murph.”

“I hate this.”

“Me too,” she agreed. “You going to say goodbye this time?”

“I don’t think I can,” he said, shaking his head. “Everything I said last time still stands. You are a force of nature and this is not the end. This is your home, and you _will_ be back. So, I’ll see you later, _flougada_.”

She chuckled at his change of what he used to call her. It warmed her heart and stilled it at the same time to know that she’d finally found a home, and she was going to have to leave it. 

She'd be back. She had to be.

“See you later, Murphy. Take care of this one for me?” she asked, nodding back to Bellamy who just rolled his eyes.

“He might be beyond even my extraordinary help.”

“Shut up, Murphy,” Bellamy murmured from behind them. 

“Okay, let’s do this. I need to go see Harper and Monty and Octavia and then we can go.”

“They’re already waiting for you at the gates. That’s what I came to tell you,” he said, sighing. “Azgeda is already here.”

“Already?” Bellamy asked, voice higher than usual and panicky. “We’re not - no. Fuck I’m not ready. Clarke.”

“Hey, hey it’s going to be okay. I’m going to be okay,” she tried to reassure him, but _fuck_ if she wasn’t on the brink of losing it again. She had time to break down the night before. She wasn’t going to it again. She was going to stay strong and poised and collected. For herself, and for Bellamy. He’d been her rock so many times, now she was going to have to do the same for him. 

She saw Murphy swipe his thumb across his cheek inconspicuously. If Murphy was going to start crying she was never going to be able to hold it together.

She swung her pack back on and grabbed Bellamy’s hand. The three of them walked, slower than normal for obvious reasons, and for Bellamy, who was still limping. 

When they got to the gate, it was just a small group waiting for them. And three Azgeda horses and riders. There was no spare horse for her, which meant she’d have to ride with one of them. She froze, flashbacks from McCreary flashing thorugh her head and how the _fuck_ was she supposed to go with the very same people that asshole came from?

She felt Bellamy’s hand squeeze hers and his thumb swipe circles over the back of hand in that way that always pulled her back. She closed her eyes and focused on the circles and his breath in her ear as at some point he had stepped between her and them and wrapped his other arm around her waist and pulled her close. He filled her senses and she let herself breathe him in, calming her mind and her heart. 

What was she going to do the next time this happened? Which, it was almost guaranteed to. 

“I’m okay,” she said, placing her hand on his chest and feeling his heart pound against her palm. She pushed away from him and knew what she had to do. She’d thought of it late the night before and knew it was the right thing to do. She stepped around Bellamy and stood as tall as she could, slipping on a mask of steel and fire. 

She wasn’t going to go quietly. 

“If you want me to go with you willingly, I have a demand.”

“Clarke, what are you doing?” Bellamy asked quietly from behind her. If she was going to do this, she was going to make damn sure to protect as many people as she could. 

“ _Azgeda nou badan yu gada op nowe_ ,” one of the riders spit at her. 

“Azgeda _will_ answer to this girl, if you want me to go willingly,” she repeated, translating his words so Monty would understand behind her. He needed to hear what she was about to say. She crossed her arms and steadied her stance. The only thing they would recognize would be strength so she couldn’t give an inch. 

“Willing or not, it makes no difference to us, _skaigada_. We’ll tie you to one of us if we have to.”

“ _Shof op_ , Ryder. The least we can do is hear her out,” one of the other riders said, and she recognized the voice instantly. 

Roan.

Her _betrothed_.

She wanted to throw up. From the way she could feel the rage and tension radiating off of Bellamy in waves from behind her, she wasn’t the only one. 

“Well, Clarke kom… Floukru. _Nou ste stelt. Chit yu gaf_?” Roan asked, removing the mask over his face.

_Spit it out, what do you want?_ He was giving her a chance.

“Finn held two prisoners at his camp for months,” she started, and she heard Monty gasp behind her somewhere, figuring out quickly where she was going with this. “I want them delivered here, to Sonchahou, unharmed. Can you make that happen?” She’d always planned on getting them back somehow, and this was too perfect of an opportunity to pass up. Possibly her only opportunity.

Roan considered her for a moment. Then his eyes softened, and he nodded. Ryder started protesting immediately.

“Sire! Heda Ontari will not - ”

“ _Ai laik Roan, Haihefa kom Azgeda._ I have the authority to grant her request, and I will do so. Echo is already there, send word for her to release - ” he paused, looking back to Clarke.

“Jasper Green and Nathan Miller.”

“ _Dula'm op nau_ ,” Roan commanded, sending the other rider that was with Ryder and Roan off into the forest. He turned back to her with a small smirk on his face. “Now… say your goodbyes, we are due in Polis in a day’s time.”

She swallowed thickly, and nodded sternly.

Monty ran for her, colliding with her and knocking her off balance. He’d regained a lot of the weight he’d lost when he’d first arrived in Sonchahou, but he had always been on the thin side and she hadn’t expected the force with which he ran to her. 

He had tears in his eyes as he looked at her when he pulled away. “I can’t… Clarke that was… thank you.”

“Jasper and Miller are good people and they don’t deserve what Finn put them through. Take care of them, okay? And make sure you help Raven get a brace that’ll help her walk. And you were always good with herbs, so look through the book I made for Harper and make sure I didn’t miss anything. And - ”

“Clarke, don’t worry about us. Please. Just take care of yourself.”

She nodded and pushed back the emotions threatening to overwhelm her. She said a similar goodbye to Harper, the first friend she had made in Sonchahou, the first one to make her feel truly welcome. To not care where she came from or how abrasive she was being. She was patient and kind, and Clarke would miss her. 

She clasped arms with Lincoln, and then wrapped her arms around O’s neck. “Take care of him, for me, will you?” she asked, knowing O would know who she was talking about. “Don’t let him spiral or lose control. He has to focus on our people, getting them through the winter. And please take care of _yourself_. Don’t push yourself too hard.”

“Clarke - ” O tried to interrupt, but Clarke wasn’t done yet.

“No, hold on. I need you to give this to Bellamy after I’m gone, okay?” she told her, slipping her a small rolled up piece of paper. “And reassure him that this is not his fault, it’s not on him. He’s going to blame himself and push himself too hard and he needs to know if he can’t figure a way to get me out… that he changed my life and that I want him to be happy.”

“Stop. No one is giving up on you. We will find something out. None of us have any interest in spending the rest of our lives without you. You’re stuck with us, Griffin. So enjoy your break from us, because you won’t be able to leave once we get you back,” she told Clarke with a smirk. 

Then all that was left was Bellamy. He was standing awkwardly off to the side, more unsure and a mess than she’d ever seen him. He was staring at the ground, and biting his lip, waiting for her to finish with everyone else.

“Bell,” she called to him and it was like a rubber band snapped. His head shot up and looked at her and for a moment, everything else melted away. She ran for him, and he opened his arms to catch her, like she knew he always would. “I love you. I love you so damn much.”

He nodded against her neck and set her down. 

Fuck, how was she going to do this?

“You’ve got such a big heart, Bellamy.”

“Clarke - ”

“Just let me say this, okay?” She swallowed back the tears threatening to spill. “People follow you, you inspire them. Because of this,” she said, putting her hand on his chest and she saw his eyes getting glossier. “But the only way to make sure our people survive is if you use this too - ” she moved her hand to his temple, her fingertips grazing his skin. 

“I got you for that,” he told her, voice breaking and a tear escaped and rolled down her cheek. 

“If it puts our people in danger to get me back, don’t do it, okay?”

“I will find you, Princess. And you are my people too. _En yu hou kamp raun hir_ ,” he told her, pointing to his heart.

_Your home is here_. Her home was in his heart, in his soul. It was her rest, her safe place. It was what she’d do her best to get back to. 

“ _En ai hou kamp raun hir_ ,” he finished, pointing to her chest. His home was with her too. 

She nodded and pulled him in for a kiss, fueling it with every ounce of love in her body. He returned it tenfold, tugging her close and splaying his hands on her back. 

“I love you Bellamy Blake,” she whispered against his lips when it was time for them to part. She sniffled hard and used every bit of control she had over her limbs and body and stepped away from him, feeling a little like she was ripping her soul from her body. Like it had affixed itself to Bellamy’s soul.

Good. She’d rather it stay it here with him anyway.

Then she turned and walked towards Roan, taking his outstretched hand and swinging her leg around to sit behind him. She didn’t trust him, but he was better than the other warrior, Ryder. 

“You ready?” he asked her.

“No,” she told him honestly. He nodded in realization and had started turning the horse around to leave when she heard Bellamy’s voice bellow out. 

“Roan!”

Roan turned his head and cocked an eyebrow, waiting for him to continue. She didn’t look at him, couldn’t trust herself to hold herself together if she did. 

“If any harm comes to her, you will have never known justice like what will rain down on Azgeda.”

She watched Roan’s expression flit from defiance to understanding and all he did was nod. 

And then they were off, riding full steam ahead towards Polis.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Man I had SO many emotions running through me writing this! It came out a little too poetic at times, but oh well. 
> 
> ProtectiveBellamy! Kissing! And an I love you! 
> 
> Arranged marriage to Roan? Uh...
> 
> But Jasper and Miller are about to enter the story! Woohoo!
> 
> Anyway, hope you enjoyed it and I can't wait for you all to see what's next! It blows my mind that we are on chapter 17 already... there is SO much more to come! 
> 
> See you Monday!! Love you all! ❤


	18. Chapter 18

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> Hope everyone is staying safe and healthy!
> 
> Holy crap you guys! I am completely blown away by the response from the last chapter! Seriously, thank you all SO SO SO much! This story took off in ways I didn't exactly expect when I started it, but I do truly love it, and it's so wonderful to hear others do too.
> 
> So here we go! 
> 
> Quick note before you dive in... Clarke meets Ontari (eek!) in this chapter and Ontari speaks Trig more than our other characters, but instead of both you and me trying to dicipher lots of dialogue from Trig, every time her or Roan speaks in lengthy Trig, I have it in italics, like I did with Aurora when we met her a few chapters ago.
> 
> Hope you enjoy!

The next time Clarke felt herself overcome with panic came a day later, when the pair of horses finally rode up to the entrance of Polis. They only stopped riding for a few hours, to give the horse rest and them a chance to shut their eyes. Clarke had laid down, using her pack as a pillow, and Bellamy’s jacket she’d taken as a blanket.The jacket was warm,thankfully, since it’d been wrapped around her for the journey, and smelled like their bed did, a combination of the two of them. 

_Their_ bed, she’d realized she’d begun thinking of it as. But she guessed it was just his again.

 _That_ felt like a stab of pain and she had to close her eyes to push the emotion down. 

Still, it smelled like salt water, pine trees, and lavender and she let that lull her to sleep. 

Roan nudged her awake too quickly, asking if she was okay after she’d woken up in a sweat and wild eyes, fresh out of a nightmare. She brushed him off and he didn’t ask any more questions, though she could tell he didn’t believe her. 

Except, she was still _in_ her nightmare. Forced out of her home, _again_. Forced to live with people she didn’t know or trust, _again_. Missing her family, _again_.

This time, however, she didn’t have that same gut feeling she’d had with Sonchahou. There was no instant connection she had to talk herself out of. 

There was just this icy foreboding feeling, tingling throughout her veins like tendrils wrapping around her.

Except maybe from Roan. He was on Ontari’s side, but she thought maybe he could at least be reasoned with. She was sick with the thought of actually having to go through with marrying him, and she hoped that at some point, she could talk him into stalling if he felt the same way.

And now she didn’t have Bellamy to warm her up. Clarke hadn’t really realized over the past day just how he had warmed every part of her, beyond just the physical, calming her down, giving her peace until she’d lost him.

No, not lost, they would be together again. She had to focus on that or she’d lose it completely.

But standing outside Polis, watching Azgeda warriors, some with masks and some without, mill about armed to the teeth with bows, sword, knives, and even Skaikru guns, she felt her chest constrict and it felt like the panic was squeezing her from the inside out. 

She put her hands in her pockets to keep her escorts from seeing them shake. This was her first day of many _many_ more that she’d have to endure in their presence and she couldn’t exactly afford for them to see anything but confidence.

Then Clarke’s fingertips brushed against something she hadn’t noticed before in Bellamy’s deep pockets and it distracted the panic long enough to get her breathing again. She didn’t dare pull it out yet, though she was itching to see what it was. She wanted to wait until she was alone, so they wouldn’t think that it was something that they could take from her. 

As she expected they would, they all stared at her as she, Roan, and Ryder walked through the streets of Polis. She kept her head held high and tried to stick near Roan, since it was clear he was headed somewhere specific and kept looking back to make sure she was following him. It was colder there than at her village, and she was surprised there was no snow yet.

Then she remembered what Bellamy had said about seeing snow on the beach and she stumbled a bit in her steps.

She wondered if it would ever stop hitting her like a ton of bricks. The things she’d miss, the things she might not be there for. She didn’t regret leaving, knowing that it was what was best for her people, but Clarke still hurt thinking of not being there for the birth of O and Lincoln’s baby, or Jasper and Miller’s arrival, or making fun of Murphy for his very obvious crush on Raven, or kissing Bellamy breathless as the snow fell around them.

There were a lot of things that she might not get to do. 

_Home is a place that when you leave, you just miss it._

Clarke hoped it never got to the point where she forgot that. 

They came to a house on the other side of the tower, out of the way of the hustle and bustle of the streets at the base of the tower. Ryder had left them a little bit ago, the second he saw a bar.

“Here we go,” Roan told her, waving a hand towards the door. 

She stood there, staring at it. Maybe if she glared at it long enough, she’d be able to make it disappear. 

It didn’t.

Roan sighed. “Look, I know you don’t want to be here. If I’m honest, I really don’t want anything to do with you either. I’d much rather continue on with enjoying the company of the other women here - ” Clarke scoffed, interrupting him, but he just smirked and continued. “ - but for now, this is where we are.”

Something stuck out to her. “For now?”

“Inside,” he said, looking around before walking up the steps to the door. “Coming?”

She gritted her teeth and reluctantly followed, keeping her hand on the handle of the knife at her waist just in case. 

They walked in, and Clarke glanced around quickly, trying to memorize the layout. There was a sitting room to her left, a kitchen she could barely get a glimpse of around the corner and two doors to her right. 

She nodded to her right. “What’s in there?”

“My room. You’re welcome to stay with me - ” Clarke snorted and glared at him. “ - or in the guest room,” he offered, gesturing at each room. “Makes no difference to me.”

She strode into the sitting room, dropping her pack unceremoniously and plopping down on one of the long couches. They weren’t true couches like the ones they’d had on the Ark, but they were similar. “Now, explain.”

“Well aren’t you a joy to talk to?”

She ignored the comment and waited. 

“Fine,” he began, leaning against the wall with his arms crossed and returning her glare. “Ontari and I aren’t exactly seeing eye to eye right now - or ever, really. She thinks that if I marry you, solidifying an alliance with Skaikru in an unbreakable way, that she won’t have to worry about threats when the rest of your people come down.”

“That’s idiotic,” Clarke said bluntly. “When the rest of my people come down, my _parents_ included, they won’t honor anything. Especially with Ontari. I was going to have a difficult enough time making them understand why I lived in Sonchahou as it was.”

“Right. But this is her best chance to not have to fight to keep her position. She rules with fear. She thinks that if she can make the Sky people afraid of you dying, then they’ll submit to her leadership. The twelve clans are ruled by Azgeda and while I obviously want to see that continue, I also don’t want to marry you for it,” he told her, adding, “No offense.”

She scoffed. “None taken, I don’t want to marry you either.”

“About that though…”

She narrowed her eyes at him, wondering where this was headed. “What?”

He held his hands up in defense. “Look, I don’t care if you have a thing going with Blake or not. I don’t even blame you.”

“That is none of your business, Roan. Back off,” she practically growled. The last thing she needed was a lecture from the Prince of Azgeda about her relationship with Bellamy. 

“Hey, like I said, I don’t care. But as a warning, Ontari will. She’ll use your relationship against you, against _him_ , even maybe against Luna, who she hates. After Bellamy’s show leaving Polis last week, she already has her suspicions. As soon as Ryder confirms what he saw at those gates…”

“I’m going to have a hard time convincing her to leave them alone and safe. And stalling for time while I figure a way out of this,” she finished his thought.

He nodded. “She won’t want to risk anything happening to this arrangement.”

“So what do I do?” She hated asking his opinion, hated that she was being forced into trusting him to keep her and Bellamy’s relationship to himself, but she didn’t really have another choice.

Fuck, they should have thought about that before their embrace at the gates of the village before she left.

“So what do _we_ do? To keep Ryder from talking?” she amended, reminding him that he was in this situation as well.

He pushed off the wall and walked over to her, sitting down on the other couch across from her. “How do you feel about murder?”

Clarke groaned. “Not great, Roan.”

Roan squinted his eyes. “Okay, then maybe I _won’t_ tell you what is happening with Ryder right about now.”

“Are you fucking kidding me?”

“Okay, Princess - ”

“Don’t fucking call me that.”

“ - that was the only way to keep him from talking. Ryder was a loyal kiss ass. There wasn’t any way he wasn’t headed straight to Ontari this evening. I had to do something or we’d be married by morning.”

“Stop talking. I don’t want to be implicated in this at all.”

“Too late. Besides, no one will think twice about it. Our people kill each other all the time for one reason or another. Azgeda aren’t exactly known for controlling their tempers.”

Her heart beat a little faster. “I’m aware.”

Roan got quiet for a few more moments. “I guess you do. I don’t know if Bellamy got a chance to tell you, but McCreary is ash now. I made sure of it.”

“You want a thank you?”

“You have a real gratitude problem, you know that?” 

She snorted. “Wasn’t aware Azgeda cared much about manners.”

Roan rolled his eyes and got up. “We’re due to see Ontari in the morning. She’s going to go over what exactly she expects from you and us.”

“Must suck, having your little sister in charge of you, the Prince of Azgeda. _Hainhofa_ means Prince, right?”

He glared at her. “You speak Trig?” he asked, surprised. She nodded. “Well, you’d better figure out what you’re going to say to her in the morning. Don’t fuck this up for me Griffin,” he told her. “I’m on your side for now, but you’d better figure out how you’re going to stall her.”

He left her in the living room and practically stomped off to his room. She picked up her pack and went to her own, collapsing on the bed. The room was pretty bare, except the bed, which was made up with pelts and pillows. She was incredibly annoyed that Roan was leaving the figuring out up to her, especially since he had a stake in this too, but at least he admitted that he’d go along with her play.

Whatever it was going to be. 

Clarke rolled over and something jabbed into her side, reminding her of the object in Bellamy’s jacket pocket. She pulled it out, realizing it was a small piece of wood about as big as her palm with a piece of paper wrapped around it. Unraveling it, she recognized Bellamy’s handwriting immediately.

_To remind you of your home and your strength_

It was a miniature version of the lighthouse. She clutched it, and tried to imagine it was Bellamy’s hand, warm and sure and safe, wrapped around her fingers, his thumb softly stroking circles into her skin. He knew she’d need something to grip to, to hold onto when panic grabbed ahold of her and while nothing would be as good as him, just knowing that he believed in her was enough to calm her down.

She could do this, she would figure it out. She needed to find some way to stall, she _had_ to. 

Tears slipped from her eyes anyway, missing Bellamy’s thumb on her cheek to wipe them away.

\------------------------

**  
_10 years ago_   
**

“You can’t do that Clarke; rooks go in straight lines,” a 10 year old Wells said exasperatedly. 

Clarke scoffed. “Why can’t they just do what I want?”

“Because. If you don’t treat the pieces for what they are and just do whatever you want, it’s chaos,” Wells tried to explain.

“But that’s what I do with my colors! I mix whatever ones I want together and they create _new_ colors.”

“That’s art. This is chess. If you don’t at least _pretend_ to follow the rules, you won’t win. Now, my dad says that doesn’t mean you can’t be sneaky about it,” he told her, lowering his voice like he was telling her a secret. Which made her giggle a little since there wasn’t anyone else in the room to hear them anyway.

Clarke wrinkled her nose. She liked to be sneaky, but she liked to be loud and free and have things her way much more. She figured if everyone would just _listen_ to her, things would be so much better. She was a smart girl, all her teachers said so. 

They told her parents how even though she never really stopped talking in class, she found ways to the answer that were different than the regular way. She could play over all the different scenarios in her head until she found the most logical path to the answer. It drove them crazy, since technically she _should_ be doing it _their_ way, but her parents were proud of her and said she’d make a great doctor or engineer like them. 

Clarke loved her mother and father very much, and was very proud of what they did for the Ark, but she wanted to be an artist. Or a leader. Maybe both. She wanted to feel free and create anything and everything. She wanted to paint her room whatever color she wanted and draw her memories on the walls. 

Her parents always said no though. But her father would sneak her different coloring utensils like paint or charcoal or crayons, and she had a notebook hidden under her mattress that she used as often as she could.

Wells was a much better rule-follower than she was. She could appreciate the need for rules, but she wanted to change them instead of follow them. 

Which was why she was currently losing at the new game that Wells had gotten from his dad for Christmas. He was so excited to teach her, but there were a lot of pieces and a lot of rules and she just wanted to turn the board over and make up a new game. 

“So how do you be sneaky in a game that has this many rules?” she whined. 

“Well if you would just listen, silly, I will tell you,” Wells said impatiently. There were no siblings on the Ark, but Wells was her brother all the same. And according to all the books she read that had siblings in them, they fought like that too.

“Fine. Teach me oh great chess master.”

Wells narrowed his eyes at her, but told her anyway. “Okay. So here we go… you ready? I’m not sure you're ready for this information.”

“Wells! I’m going to eat your snack if you don’t tell me.”

He laughed one of his loud, belly laughs that lit up his whole face and showed all his teeth. “You don’t even _like_ the snack my dad sent with me,” he pointed out when he’d regained his breath.

“I’ll eat it anyway,” she insisted, standing her ground.

He shook his head. “You are so stubborn sometimes.”

“Just tell me!”

“Okay, okay. So see this pawn?” He held up the smallest piece. There were a lot of them and really they looked like they were just in the way of the cooler pieces. She nodded, trying not to roll her eyes or she knew he’d make fun of her again. “So my dad says that a lot of people sacrifice those, like they don’t matter, so they can use their rook - which, again, _go in straight lines_ \- or a knight or their queen or something.”

“Well, yeah, the queen can do whatever she wants.”

“Still, sometimes, when you’re looking over _here_ at all the bigger pieces moving around, and don’t notice that I’m subtly moving my pawns forward, they can actually take out the larger pieces or work together with the larger pieces for a checkmate. _Or_ … ” he trailed off conspiratorially. “They can actually _turn into queens_ themselves. You sneak one of those bad boys - ” Clarke narrowed her eyes at him and he added, “ - or girls, all the way across the board, and those pawns you weren’t worried about before suddenly becomes the one you have to watch out for the most.”

She furrowed her eyebrows, trying to see it. “Okay. So basically, the pawns can be as important as the other pieces?”

“Yes! _Don’t underestimate the pawns_. Because sometimes you only need a well-placed pawn to win. Then your opponent doesn’t stand a chance.”

She nodded like she understood what he meant, and she really wanted to. But apparently she didn’t understand enough, because he still beat her butt every time. 

_Don’t underestimate the pawns._

Whatever that meant.

Maybe one day she'd get it.

\------------------------

The next morning, Roan knocked on the door of her room. She’d slept as long as she could, since she’d barely slept and wasn’t exactly in a hurry to meet with Roan and Ontari. She couldn’t even remember falling asleep, only staring up at the ceiling of the house, fidgeting with the lighthouse in her hands. Her fingertips went over each carve over and over until she had each detail memorized. It was an exact replica, even down to the building around the back that his mother lived in. She’d close her eyes and try to imagine the waves rushing over her feet, Bellamy’s hands at her waist, his warm chest at her back. She’d feel the ghost of his lips over her ear, and the overwhelming sense of peace that would work it’s way through her veins.

At some point she must’ve dozed off because the last thing she remembered was the darkness and the shadows that threatened to choke her, and the next thing was the sun shining through the window of her room. Even though it was winter, the sun was out, though that didn’t seem to stop the biting cold that ran down to her bones. It was much colder in Polis than Sonchahou, in more ways than one.

She was ushered into the tower, the tallest building she’d ever seen, though she’d only been on the ground for about four and a half months to her best guess, and there weren't many left. Still, she felt herself grow nervous as she rode the lift up to the very top. Roan was next to her, a permanent scowl affixed to his expression. She kept her gaze steady, and tried to project the rage and disinterest in being forced to be there that she actually felt. Nerves had no place amongst Azgeda.

She walked into the room, and who she presumed to be Ontari was seated on an elaborate throne made of branches intertwined with each other. And atop the tallest one in the middle sat a human skull. She tried not to wonder who that might be from.

“ _Brother! Thank you for delivering the Sky Princess to me._ ” Ontari looked Clarke up and down. “ _Not very intimidating, is she? For all this fuss, I expected... more_ ,” Ontari spoke in Trig to Roan. Clarke tried to remain calm, her hands itching to form into fists. She wasn’t sure exactly how much Ontari knew about her, but it was probably safe to assume that she thought she didn’t speak the Grounder’s language. 

That might be useful; Ontari might slip up and say something she could use to her advantage, so she forced her hands and muscles to relax to not let on that she’d understood her.

Roan glanced in her direction, saw that she wasn’t responding, and she knew he was aware that she could understand Trig, but it was in his best interest to keep that fact to himself so she hoped he wouldn’t spill that fact to Ontari. 

“ _Well we could always call his whole thing off, if you don’t think she’s worthy of the Azgeda name,_ ” he tried with a smirk and a quirk of his eyebrow, turning to face his sister again. 

“Roan, _I am your Heda, you will do what I command. And I am commanding you to bind yourself to her. I need the Skaikru weapons and technology and possession of their Princess to secure my reign when they come down. This is the only way to ensure that._ ”

Roan's face flashed with rage and she understood how the dig she’d made earlier about his little sister being in charge of him hit a weak spot. He hated having to answer to her.

“ _Don’t worry brother, she is merely a pawn in our plans to solidify control. You will teach her our ways and she will become Azgeda, through and through._ ”

A memory triggered in her mind, remembering what Wells had taught her about pawns. Just thinking about Wells sent a fresh wave of pain through her, but she pushed it down. 

_Don’t underestimate the pawns._

Clarke was anything _but_ a pawn, but if that’s what Ontari thought she was, then that’s what she could at least _pretend_ to be. She’d comply with most of Ontari’s requests, act ignorant and weak, pretend to be honored to be in her presence, which would give Bellamy _time_. That’s all she needed to figure a way out. Time. 

Clarke would make Ontari believe she was a pawn, sneaking by her until she could reveal herself as a much more powerful player in the game. A Queen, she remembered Wells telling her.

Then it would be checkmate.

It was admittedly not the most perfect of metaphors, but it would do. She silently thanked Wells, for protecting her yet again. 

So she softened her features and her stance, trying to project meekness.

“Heda, perhaps we should speak in English, so that the _skaigada_ may understand you, my liege,” a man from Ontari’s left spoke to her. Ontari got a look on her face that resembled a striped cat she’d seen in fairy tale books on the Ark as a child. 

“You are quite right, Titus. Thank you,” Ontari said, sickly sweet. She turned her sights on Clarke and if Clarke wasn’t mistaken, Roan took a half step in her direction. “Clarke kom Skaikru, it is a pleasure to meet the infamous _Skaihainofi._ ”

“The pleasure is mine, Heda,” she forced herself to say, tilting her head. She really wished they'd stop calling her a Sky Princess. That was not who she was anymore.

“I suppose it is. Not much luxury amongst people who live on the beach, is there?”

A shot of fury ran through her at Ontari’s insult. As if luxury would ever be more important than her family. As if having the love of a family wasn’t the very definition of luxury to Clarke.

She remained quiet as Ontari walked towards her, circling her like a hunter does its prey. She didn’t understand that she was _Clarke’s_ prey. 

Ontari hummed. “I suppose you’ll do. Although I would’ve appreciated someone with a little more... hardiness.” She frowned before slipping back into Trig. “ _Azgeda might not be happy with a Princess of her stature._ ”

There was her opening. Her chance to stall.

“My Heda, I want to make Azgeda proud. If I am to join your clan, I would want to be worthy of the honor.”

Roan cocked his head in confusion just slightly, sensing her making her move, like she hoped he would.

“Well, there’s not much chance of that, with you being like this, is there? Also I was under the impression that Sonchahou was upset to lose you, so are you loyal to me, or to them?”

“They are under your command, therefore I am,” Clarke tried, knowing that was not going to be the end of the inquisition. “I did what I needed to to survive.” She needed to sound disconnected from the village and her family as much as possible. “They need a healer. Going into a season where illness runs rampant, they did not want to lose my skills and knowledge. But I go where I am called.”

“ _She is quite the sheep, isn’t she? She will be controlled easily._ ” she told Roan, who only nodded. Then she walked swiftly back to her throne, sitting with an overdramatic flourish that forced Clarke to control the urge to roll her eyes back into her head. “You will be married in two week’s time. Titus, send riders to the clans to send their ambassadors for witness.”

Two weeks was not enough time. She had to convince her to stall longer.

“Heda, if I may?” Clarke asked and when Ontari waved her on, she continued. “Like I said before, I wish to make Azgeda proud. When I marry the Prince - ” she suppressed a gag at the thought. “ - I wish to know your traditions and to be able to fight for my new clan and speak the language. Please, allow a couple extra weeks so that I may prepare adequately.”

Ontari narrowed her eyes at Clarke, and for a moment she was worried that she’d overstepped, that she’d catch on. Her heart pounded with the implications that would mean. 

Then Roan spoke up in support. “Sister, that is a good idea. It will show the ambassadors that she is truly Azgeda if she is able to act and look as such. Especially whichever ambassadors Floukru sends.”

Good, that was good. Play to her pride for her clan.

Then, surprisingly, Titus spoke up next. “My heda, that will also give the ambassadors plenty of time to plan their absences from their villages and fight the cold weather to get here. The more southern clans specifically will find difficulty in this.”

“Enough! I don’t care about how hard it is to get here, when I summon, they come, end of story! Titus, send word to the clans that in _three_ weeks time, there will be a wedding, binding Skaikru and Azgeda together forever.” she demanded. At least that would inadvertently get a message to Bellamy about how much time he had left. And then turning to Roan, Ontari added, “You have three weeks with which to prepare her. And she’d better be ready, Roan,” she threatened. “ _I will not tolerate any dissension._ ”

Roan’s jaw clenched next to her and she could practically see the veins popping off his muscles where his arms were crossed. 

“You are dismissed,” she waved them off. 

Roan took a deep breath and nodded back towards the lift. As they reached the doors, Ontari spoke up one last time. “Oh brother, one more thing.” Roan turned his head to the side, but didn’t bother turning around. “ _Interesting, don’t you think, that Ryder just so happens to be found dead, moments after your return yesterday?_ ”

The door opened and they stepped inside before he turned to answer her. “You know how Ryder liked to gamble. Perhaps he gambled his life away.”

Ontari narrowed her eyes but said nothing else as the doors closed.

Clarke was going to have her work cut out for her.

***

Bellamy was trying to hold it together, he really was. He was trying to follow her advice to put their people first and use his head, but after Murphy had to repeat himself for the third time , he gave up pretenses.

“Fuck, man I know you’re hurting, but we need to take care of this or people are going to die,” Murphy told him, bluntly, but he wasn't wrong. Bellamy _was_ hurting, but the village needed his focus as much as Clarke did. It didn't stop him from feeling like he was failing on all sides though.

“I know that Murphy, whatever I do, people die or get hurt. I got it.”

“That’s not what I meant and you know it,” Murphy stood firm. 

“I’m sorry, I just - I can’t - I can’t concentrate. Okay, run it down for me again,” he prompted.

Murphy sighed and took a seat next to him in the meeting hall. They were going over trade reports. Trikru hadn’t had a great harvest season and was going to need some extra food to get their clan through the winter, so they were offering extra blankets in exchange. 

Problem was, they didn’t really _need_ new blankets. They needed healing supplies, having gone through a third of their stash in the week and a half since Clarke had left. The time of _haknes_ had started and Harper had been busy with people that needed help, so she hadn’t had time to go collect more. Plus, there were a few herbs they didn’t have access to on their lands. He was going to have to send a group out in the next couple of days to collect what they could, but he was having a hard time concentrating on who would be best for that. Thankfully, Clarke had left the book of her drawings of what they would need and - 

“Hello? Earth to Bellamy?” Murphy said, waving a hand at him.

“Sorry, what?”

“I _said_ Louwoda Kliron has ample medical supplies, so if we needed to do a three way trade with them and Trikru, we could probably make that happen. They need blankets.”

“Right. Okay, set it up. Make sure to ask if we can have permission this winter to forage for a limited amount of herbs on their land too.”

Murphy nodded, hesitating for a moment on his way out. “I miss her too, you know. We all do. We’re all working to find a solution.”

He sighed and nodded. “Yeah, I know. I’ve been over and over and over this. Without starting an all out _war_ with Azgeda and possibly the entire coalition, I can’t exactly kidnap her back, and I can’t run away with her and leave all of you. I’m just so frustrated. And - I miss her. Like there’s a part of me that left with her and it’s tearing me apart.”

Murphy’s eyes flashed with determination. “We will figure it out. There’s got to be another option we haven’t thought of. One that gets all of us out of this alive. I’ll see you tonight.”

He was supposed to go to the lighthouse that evening with Octavia, Lincoln and Murphy to visit their mother, but he was considering cancelling. He’d been to see his mother the day after Clarke left, to explain the situation and what was happening and tell her what Clarke wanted him to. 

She’d been horrified and angered and he let himself break down with her and let her hug and comfort him. She understood, better than most, how Clarke would feel walking into the lion’s den like that. It physically pained them to think of not being there to stand next to her, to support her and back her up. To be a safe place for her.

So he’d buried himself in work as much as possible, trying to get everything taken care of so he wouldn’t obsess over it, but everything reminded him of her. Of how he’d failed to protect her. He’d slipped the note and carving into the pocket of his jacket the night before she left after she’d fallen asleep, wanting to give her something of their people, something she could physically hold onto and draw strength from if she needed it. He wanted her to know how much he believed in her. 

And now she was amongst people who wouldn’t hesitate to chop her head off if they had a bad day.

Logic told him that Ontari _needed_ her alive. That the binding with Skaikru needed to be taken care of before the Ark came down in a couple months. But he couldn’t shake the fear that something might happen anyway. Ontari wasn’t exactly known for her patience and was quick to anger and vengeance. 

His cabin didn’t even feel like his anymore. Her presence was still so prevalent. It was in the way he laid down to sleep - if he could even call what he was doing _sleep_ \- every night, to the blankets he didn’t have to steal back from her after she rolled over and took them all with her. It was in the little drawings she’d made on his table, and the way his pillow smelled like lavender.

“Hey big brother,” O said from behind him. He looked up at her in the open doorway and noticed that it had gotten dark. He furrowed his eyebrows; he hadn’t even realized lunch had passed. 

“What’s up, O?” he asked, standing up and walking over to her. She wrapped her arms around him briefly. This was the one good thing that seemed to be happening. His sister was having a baby, and so far, according to Harper, everyone was doing okay. No heartbeat yet, but Harper assured them that it would be a while before they could detect one and as long as there were no indiciations of a miscarriage, that all they could do was wait. Octavia wasn’t the most patient of people, but for her child she seemed to be following Harper’s instructions closely.

“It’s time to head down to Mom’s,” she told him.

“Yeah, go on ahead, I’ll meet you down there when I’m done with this.”

Octavia snorted. “Bullshit. I'm not leaving without you. We’re telling her about the baby tonight, don’t you want to be there for that?”

Of course he did, but he also wanted _Clarke_ to be there for that. He didn’t want her to miss any moments of this, but that wasn’t exactly an option. 

“Yeah, of course I do. Okay, let me gather this stuff up and we’ll go,” he gave in.

“Hey, uh, Bell? Don’t hate me, okay?”

He froze. “Why would I hate you?”

Octavia bit her lip. “Because Clarke gave me something to give to you.” He spun around to face her. “She wanted me to wait, wanted you to have it when you needed hope the most. And by the looks of you right now…”

“I’m fine, O.”

“Come on, not even you believe that. You’ve been working yourself to the bone, not eating, and are you even sleeping?” He averted his eyes from her glare. “Yeah, I didn’t think so. Damnit Bellamy, you aren’t going to be of any help to Clarke if you don’t take care of yourself!”

“I can’t even _think_ about myself right now, O! She’s going through who knows what kind of hell and I’m not smart enough to figure this out. I need _her_.”

“No you don’t. You are smart enough to figure this out on your own. You have to trust that she’s taking care of herself in Polis. Clarke is strong and brilliant, you’ve got to trust that she found a way to stall long enough for you to go after her.”

“What if I’m too late? What if they’re already - ”

“You aren’t. Not yet. That’s the other thing I came to tell you. Polis riders arrived a little bit ago. Gave a message to Lincoln to give to you.”

“Why the hell didn’t you tell me this first? Octavia!”

She winced. “Before I give you the message, I want you to see what Clarke left you, okay?” He glared at her. “Just look at it, will you?” She handed him a piece of rolled up paper.

He sighed and took it from her, anxious to see both what Clarke had left for him and to see what Polis had sent. 

It was Clarke’s artistry, a picture of them from her hand. It was beautiful, like all the other things she’d drawn over the months that decorated various places around the village. But this was intimate, touched his soul in a way that breathed life into his lungs. 

It was them, on the beach, the ocean in the background. His hands were on her waist, and her hands were on either side of his neck, their foreheads touching. Under, it read:

_You still have hope?  
Are we still breathing?_

He let out a shaky breath. She was giving him his words back, reminding him of what he had to fight for, that as long as they still drew breath, there was hope that they’d find a way back to each other.

“Wow, that’s beautiful,” O breathed, voice breaking. She was next him, a hand on his shoulder. “You two…” she shook her head. “That was something I never thought I’d see back when she first got here.”

He nodded a little. “What’s the message from Polis, Octavia?” he asked quietly. 

“They told Lincoln that Ontari is requesting all clans in the coalition to send representatives to witness the ceremony of the Sky Princess and the Azgeda Prince.”

He closed his eyes and tried to control his breathing.

She wasn’t the Sky Princess anymore, but that didn’t seem to matter much to them.

“When?”

“In a week and a half. So that’ll have been three weeks since she left.”

_A week and a half._

That wasn’t enough time. 

Bellamy stormed passed her and headed straight for the gates. He needed to get out, he needed to _breathe_. He needed to see and remember the last place he’d seen her, the last place he’d held her, kissed her. He loved her, he loved her _so fucking much_ and he didn’t say it.

He should’ve said it. 

“Bellamy?” he heard Monty ask as he rushed past him and Jasper on the road, headed for the dining hall, no doubt. 

“Where’s he going?” Jasper asked Monty.

Jasper and Miller had gotten to the village a few days after Clarke left. They were a little skittish, way too skinny, and confused about what was going on. Monty immediately ran up to Jasper, both of them in tears as they embraced for the first time in months. He explained that Clarke had bargained for their freedom, giving up her own in the process, and that this village was a safe place for them to live. They were a little battered and injured, but they were relatively unharmed and seemed to trust Monty enough to follow his lead.

Jasper was a little eccentric, but incredibly kind and thoughtful and extremely smart. He and Monty spoke in half sentences when they were talking, a little like that they were one person split in two. It turned out in addition to something called playing cards that Jasper had absconded with from the dropship, he also brought a few of the miracle seeds that Monty had invented on the Ark and Monty’s face lit up like a torch when he saw them. Ever since, they’d spent hours dissecting them and trying to see if they could split them or something to reproduce them. To be honest, Bellamy wasn’t sure exactly _how_ it all worked, but he was grateful that they were trying something anyway. Jasper fit in quickly, like Monty had. 

Miller was a little rougher around the edges and spent a lot of time just observing them before trusting them but after a few days started opening up. It turned out he was a good strategic thinker and had jumped right in helping where he was able around the village, mainly with construction or sparring with their warriors.

Raven hadn’t been there much longer, but once Monty had helped her engineer a brace to fit over her knee since the bottom half of her leg continued to not have any feeling, she had no problem taking one of the central cabins towards the middle of the village and set to work tinkering with any metal she could find, working with the local blacksmith primarily. They got along well, except for the occasional disagreement, and he didn’t think there was anything to worry about from their three new additions. 

Murphy clearly agreed, since more than once he’d been caught loitering around the blacksmith cabin. If Bellamy was in a better state of mind, he’d be making merciless fun at Murphy for his very obvious attraction to Raven. He made a mental note to do just that, however, once they got Clarke back.

He’d had Lincoln and a few others help prepare Clarke’s cabin for Miller and Jasper, which basically just involved adding another bed. The other cabins that they’d been working on were in the middle of the village and he figured they might feel a little better the closer they were to Monty, who was on the other side of the clinic in Harper’s.

Before Clarke left she’d mostly been staying in his cabin anyway and he, admittedly very presumptuously, assumed that would be where she’d want to be when she got back.

If he was wrong, he’d build her a new one. 

“Open the gates, David!” Bellamy shouted when he got close enough. He could sense someone following him, probably his sister or Monty, but paid them no mind and only stopped when he reached the first tree outside the gates. He put a hand on the rough bark, trying to calm his breathing and run through the list of all the reasons why running to Polis that very second was a terrible idea.

“Bellamy!” he heard Monty shout towards him, but he couldn’t do it, couldn’t turn around. He felt the man put a hand on his shoulder and he could practically feel himself deflate. “Bellamy,” Monty said again. “You can’t go after her.”

“So, what? I give up? Let him marry her? No.”

“I want to go after her too. But look at where you are. We have no plan, we could die or _she_ could die if we - ”

“We _can’t_ lose Clarke, Monty!” he let out. Then he looked back at the gates to see Octavia standing with her arms crossed, looking at him with sadness in her eyes, and Jasper next to her. “I can’t lose her,” he said softer, more to himself than to Monty.

“We will figure something out, I promise,” Monty told him firmly. “But this isn’t the way.” 

“I know. Okay.” He walked back in through the gates, Octavia on his right, wrapping a hand through his arm. 

“Come on, Bell. Let’s go to dinner,” she offered and he nodded. 

His mind was spinning around and around and he just wanted it to stop. He wanted to land somewhere that would get them out of this mess. If the wedding was in a week and a half, then he’d have to leave in six days in order to get there in time to see the woman he loved marry someone else. Polis was usually only a couple days away but with the weather turning more and more bitter, he didn’t want to take the chance that they’d be delayed.

Dinner at his mother’s was about what he expected. Despite his sullen mood, he found himself enjoying his time with his family. And he obviously wasn’t going to be able to resist cracking a smile when Aurora’s face lit up with joy when Octavia announced she was going to be a grandmother. Even the stoic Lincoln was all laughter and hugs. 

Murphy predictably called favorite Uncle title even though Bellamy tried to tell him that wasn’t how it worked. The _kid_ chose the favorite title. And Aurora swatted at them both, telling them it wasn’t a competition, that the kid would love _both_ of their uncles equally.

But behind her back they went back to fighting quietly, and Octavia just chuckled, amused that they were already fighting over the baby and Lincoln couldn’t stop beaming, looking at her like she hung all the stars in the sky and leaning over to kiss Octavia way more than he usually did. It was beautiful, and not for the first time, he was so grateful they had found each other.

Bellamy hung back with his mother when O announced that she was exhausted and if she waited any longer, Lincoln was going to have to carry her back. Then Murphy made a crack about her being heavy now that she was two people and even Lincoln wasn’t going to be able to protect him from that one. 

They took off across the sand until Octavia had him down flat on his back, finally admitting defeat. She helped him up and Lincoln shook his head and walked after them, hugging Aurora on his way out.

“You two take care of each other, you hear?” she told her son-in-law. “Having a baby,” she glanced at Bellamy, “it changes your whole world. Having a piece of your heart on the outside of your body like that… it’s both terrifying and extraordinary all at once.”

Lincoln nodded. “I’m so pleased that my child has so many people who love and will be a part of their lives. And a grandmother so caring,” he tipped his head. “Good night, you two,” he bid them a final goodbye and took off after his wife. 

“Come on inside, hmm? You obviously have something - or someone - on your mind. Talk to me, I’ll put the tea on.”

“Mom you don’t have to, I’m sure you’re tired and you don’t need to hear about my problems anymore. It’s not like I’ve come up with anything new.” Bellamy flopped down on the rug in front of the fireplace. It looked out her bay window and he could see the moon and stars over the ocean. 

“Oh Bellamy. Your problems are my problems,” she told him, laying down next to him after putting the kettle over the fire. “And I wouldn’t exactly call trying to get the woman you love back a ‘problem’.”

“No? What would you call it then?” He looked at her out of the corner of his eye.

“An obstacle.”

He chuckled. “An obstacle. Mom, she’s supposed to marry into Azgeda, has been essentially kidnapped, and our entire village would’ve died if I didn’t give her up,” he told her exasperatedly. “An obstacle is not having enough firewood, or blankets, or your boat has a hole in it. _This_ is a big fucking _problem_.” He realized what he was saying a second too late and got a swat on the arm for his swearing. “Sorry.”

“Bellamy, do you believe that you’re supposed to love and be with this girl?”

He sighed and looked back out the window. “Of course I do.”

“And while you were gone, I saw that same answer in her eyes every single time she came here. When she didn’t know whether you were dead or alive or _what_ was happening, she had the same thoughts you did. You two are connected. My boy,” she put a hand on his shoulder. “You will find a way.”

“I see Octavia so happily married to Lincoln and having a child and I - is that stupid, I’ve known her for all of five months.”

“If I say it is, would that make you love her any less?” she asked. And she was right. He would love her regardless. “Love doesn’t always play by the rules of time, my son, but it is strength. It does not always come easy. Sometimes you have to go for what you want. Anything worth having is worth fighting for.”

_Love is strength._

_Sometimes you have to go for what you want._

What did he want? That was easy. 

He wanted Clarke to be happy, free to love and be with who _she_ chooses. And for some reason, she seemed to have chosen him. So how could he give her that choice back?

He shot up straight, ignoring the kettle whistling insistently over the fire, ignoring the way his mother was looking at him. The wheels in his mind that hadn’t stopped turning in his mind over and over again since Clarke left were still spinning, but for an entirely different reason. He was no longer going over his options. No longer trying to find some magical solution that would stop Clarke from marrying Roan. 

He’d already found it. 

It was a stupidly simple plan and he cursed himself for not automatically thinking of it. He’d never felt more sure of anything in his life. This was going to work.

He just needed to make sure all the pieces were in place for it to happen.

“Honey, is everything okay?” he heard his mother ask. 

He snapped his gaze to hers and answered, “I’ve got an idea. Signal Luna that I’m on my way to her, we’re not going to have a ton of time to pull this together.”

His mother immediately got to her feet and started for the door, headed for the main part of the lighthouse, where the torch was kept at the very top. 

She stopped after putting her jacket on and stepped into his space, wrapping her arms around his neck. “I knew you’d figure it out.”

“I’m going to get her back,” he told her. 

He’d been saying it for the past week and a half, but for the first time, he knew exactly _how_.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you enjoyed that! I know there was no interaction between the two of them (except their little notes), but there was pining and planning and Aurora finding out about the baby and a mother/son chat and Roan and 10 year Clarke and WELLS! ❤
> 
> Hope you all have a good week, see you for the next update on Thursday! 
> 
> Also, I'm sorry if I don't reply to your comment quickly, I try!


	19. Chapter 19

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Polis! Here we go!
> 
> Hope everyone is doing well, thank you all SO much for your amazing comments and thoughts and excitement. ❤
> 
> Shout-out to our E!Online leading lady of the year, Eliza Taylor! ❤
> 
> Enjoy!

“Arrrgh!” Roan roared, his head slamming against the floor. “Damnit!”

“Ha!” Clarke said, pumping her fists in the air. “Get your ass up, _Hainofa_. Unless… you’re scared?” she taunted.

Roan grunted with the effort it took him to get up, spitting blood to the ground. He glared at her, in that indignant way she hated, that usually sent ice through her veins, but she pushed it down and away the best she could and channeled it into her rage.

They’d been training in hand to hand and various weapons for three weeks and she had the sore muscles and bruises to prove it. But she’d _finally_ gotten the upper hand on him for the first time and clocked him in the jaw before kicking out his knees and pushing him over onto the concrete, a knee in his chest. He could have technically flipped her over and she’d be the one on her back, but they had a kind of unspoken agreement that the one of their back first loses that round. 

“You’re a pain in the ass, Griffin,” he shot at her, but she just laughed. His pride was bigger than all of Polis and she knew he didn’t exactly like being beat by her. 

She loved it.

He stalked towards her, beckoning her to begin again and she got into the ready position, ready for his charge, which she was able to duck away from. Then there were a few more jabs, Clarke using her elbows as much as possible. Since Roan had brute strength on her, not to mention years of training, she usually counted on her agility and ability to see the attacks coming in order to get the advantage on him. 

The good thing about sparring with him versus Octavia, was that Clarke wasn’t afraid to throw punches and kicks as hard as her body allowed. Not that Octavia wouldn’t be able to deflect or absorb whatever Clarke managed to get through her defenses, but there was always a part of her afraid of accidentally hurting her friend.

She didn’t really have that same kind of fear towards Roan. If she gave him a bruise or a broken nose… well, as callous as it sounded, she didn’t care as much. And he didn’t seem to have any qualms with hurting her either.

They went around and around and she was pretty sure her abdomen was an array of black, blue, and purple, and this time he flipped her over, knocking the breath out of her lungs when she hit cement. 

“Son of a _bitch_ , Roan!” she yelled through gritted teeth, still partially gasping for breath.

“Well, you want to fight like Azgeda, you can’t go easy,” he shrugged.

“I don't want to fight _like_ Azgeda, I want to fight _against_ Azgeda!” she grunted out without thinking, grateful they were the only ones within earshot. He extended an arm to help her up and she glared at him, getting up without his help.

“Hmm, taking on a whole clan? A whole coalition? That’s ambitious,” he mocked. 

“Whatever. Again!”

“What, are you _trying_ to get me to kill you?”

“Please. If you were going to kill me, you would’ve done it already,” she told him, spitting towards the ground as she took another shot, which he easily dodged. She was getting tired and sluggish.

His hand came up and gripped her forearm as she pulled back from the throw and twisted her arm so he was behind her suddenly, the arm he had a hold of contorted painfully at her back and his other arm wrapped loosely around her neck.

“There’s still time,” he quipped before loosening his hold just enough for her to twist out of it and shove him away to his laughter. She knew he was mostly kidding, taunting her just to drive her crazy.

“Let’s switch to swords,” she suggested, already heading for the sparring weapons on the edge of the arena. Swords were what she was worst at, most of the ones she had tried to use were too heavy for her brandish properly. She knew she would eventually work up enough muscle to wield them, but three weeks was too short of a period of time to develop the strength, even at the pace they were training. She’d discovered, however, that she was far more skilled at archery. Her ability to shut her mind down of everything except where she was aiming, singularly focused on her goal and compartmentalizing everything else was a huge benefit.

“No, no, no, Princess, we’ve got things to do. Wedding in two days and all. Unless you think Blake actually figured a way to get you out of it.” She glared at him, hard, and shook her overused arms and sore muscles out.

“He will. And I’ve told you a thousand times, _don’t call me that_.”

“How could you possibly know that?” he asked, ignoring her demand that he not use that nickname for her anymore, like he’d been doing for the last three weeks. Only one person was allowed to call her that.

“Because I fucking know _him_!” she insisted.

Roan looked at her with something akin to pity and she wanted to punch the look off his face so he’d never look at her like that again. He must’ve noticed the fire in her glare because he took a few steps back from her and switched his expression.

“He’d better have. You’ve been fun to fight with, but I’m not getting stuck with you for the rest of my life.”

“The feeling is mutual,” she growled towards him, stalking away back to their house. 

Despite their barbs, they’d become something close to friends, though she wouldn’t quite say that and still didn’t fully trust him. She wasn’t sure she’d ever be able to actually give him that, but she didn’t believe he meant her any real harm. She could probably call them allies, maybe. Enemies with a mutual interest. Something along those lines. 

That was more than she could say of other Azgeda members, however. Clarke had her fair share of encounters over the past few weeks. Warriors who didn’t want her there any more than she wanted to be there and who clearly thought it would be better if she was dead. 

The first attack came only a day after their meeting with Ontari. Ivon had come to the house to discuss something with Roan, and when he’d gone to go get something in his room, leaving Clarke alone in the sitting room with him, Ivon had cornered her with a knife. She’d frozen initially, memories of McCreary creeping into her consciousness and wrapping around her like a snake trying to suffocate its prey.

Thankfully, Clarke had been keeping a knife of her own on her belt at all times, not trusting anyone in Polis. Her instincts kicked in when he got close and she managed to stab Ivon in the gut. She slashed to the side, and his blood poured all over the sitting room and herself. Roan came rushing out from his room, eyes going wide at the scene before him. When he noticed the knife still curled in Ivon’s hand from where he lay crumpled on the floor and how violently Clarke was shaking, he helped her clean it all up without a word, taking care of Ivon’s body himself. 

She had holed herself up in her room for the next two days, until Roan came knocking. He’d been blunt with her, noting that Ivon wasn’t completely wrong about killing her. She could tell he wasn’t trying to be unkind, but that he wanted her to be aware that it might not be the last time it happened because there were a number of people who saw her death as the easiest way to get out of anything to do with Skaikru.

Then he’d told her to follow him to the arena they were in now, throwing a sword at her feet and telling her to try to kill _him_ and that was when their training had begun. She’d focused her energy into expanding on what Octavia had been teaching her, only really leaving the arena during meal times and when Roan forced her to rest. 

She had grown used to the pangs that ran through her often now, when she thought of her family back in Sonchahou. She’d give anything to hear one of Murphy’s taunts, or get tackled by Octavia, or be wrapped in a hug from Harper, or even taste Monty’s moonshine.

She wanted to lay out on the warm sand and listen to the waves crashing on the shore, Bellamy’s arm around her, kissing her neck and shoulders and everywhere else, while the sun beat down on them.

She wanted to learn how to cook from Maya, and play games with Layla and Madi and the rest of the children.

Once she was back in the house, she slammed the door of her room behind her, and took a long drink from her canteen that she kept next to her bed. She collapsed back on the mattress, trying to settle her breathing, still worked up from the arena. She groaned as she finally sat up, pulling out a piece of paper and pencil. 

_Hey, Bell, it’s me again._

_It’s been three weeks and I’m not sure why I’m still doing this. I know you’re on your way and I’ll see you in a couple days. Maybe it’s my way of staying connected to you, to who I am. Ontari seems pretty damn smug that she thought of everything, but she doesn’t know us, who we are or what we can do. What I can do._

She sighed and took a deep breath before finishing. 

_Anyway, I still have hope that we’ll figure something out._

_I love you. I’ll see you soon._

Clarke folded it and put it with the others under her mattress. One for every day she’d been gone. 

A knock on the door startled her out of her reverie. Clarke was so tired of this, but she tried to remind herself she just had to stick it out for a few more days. She trusted Bellamy would have a plan, but a part of her knew she also had to be prepared just in case she was going to have to marry Roan. She knew she’d do it, if it was the only way to protect her true home. 

She swung it open to see Roan standing with his arms crossed, like usual. Clarke rolled her eyes and dropped her hand from the door, leaving it open. “What do you want, Roan? I’m not really in the mood for one of your heart to hearts," she asked sardonically.

He snorted. “Finished with your letter?”

Her eyes widened and she felt like it was lava flowing through her veins instead of blood, crossing her own arms to prevent herself from knocking him out. “Have you been going through my stuff?”

He shook his head. “No. But someone else has been.”

“Shit. Does Ontari know?” Not that she wanted Roan to have been reading through her letters to Bellamy, but Ontari was the real problem. And to be honest, she’d feel better if it _were_ Roan that did it, since anyone else was likely to have run straight to his sister.

He shook his head again. “Caught him in the act. He attacked me and has since been taking care of. But I would’ve thought you’d have been more fucking careful,” he told her, clearly agitated.

“You know, it really is remarkable how Azgeda as a whole is still alive with all the murder,” she murmered under her breath.

He narrowed his eyes at her, but she didn’t soften her stance. “You can’t be that stupid. Of course people are going to find those,” he pointed out. She ignored the bait, refusing to admit it. She’d known it was a risk, but she was going crazy with the charade she had been putting on and needed to do _something_ to keep herself sane. 

They stood in tense silence for a moment more. “Anything else?”

“Clarke, if Bellamy doesn’t figure something out - ”

“He will. But just for fun, tell me, what were you going to say?” she asked, a joke in her tone now. He liked to pretend he was all mean and ice, but even if they were enemies, she knew he would never actually hurt her. He’d proven that after what happened to McCreary and Ivon. “You once said that Ivon and others think that if they kill me, it gets them out of a deal with Skaikru. You’d have the added benefit of not being tied to me for the rest of your life. You going to threaten my life now, Roan?” she smirked. 

He turned away, not saying anything. 

“You won’t kill me. We may be at each other’s throats half the time, but you aren’t your sister. You don’t kill people unless they deserve it or you don’t have a choice. You should be in charge of Azgeda, not your heartless sister.” It was possibly the nicest thing she’d said to him since arriving in Polis.

“Thanks for the confidence, Princess,” he said with an eyebrow cocked.

She shot him a glare, “Don’t mistake what I said. Notice how I said Azgeda, not the entire coalition.”

“Yeah, well, I never could be anyway… red blood and all,” he pointed out, gesturing to the scratch on his arm from their sparring earlier. He sounded regretful; it was the tone he used often when talking about Ontari being in charge over him. 

She assessed him for a moment before changing the subject. “So when’s dinner? Kicking your ass made me hungry.”

He shook his head and nodded with his head back.

She followed him out to the living area, where a ton of food was sitting on the table. “It’s what I was coming to get you for. Traditionally, in the days leading up to a wedding, the bride and groom feast every evening,” he told her. 

She shrugged and plopped down next to it, taking a bite out of a leg of meat. “Well, I’m not going to tell them the wedding isn’t happening if you won’t.”

He chuckled and sat down next to her, grabbing at a leg of his own. 

Their door slammed open all of a sudden and Titus entered, with Ontari right behind him. It was like all the air got sucked out of the room. Clarke’s heart started pounding immediately and she felt anxiety start bubbling up in her chest. She swallowed thickly and stood. 

The sooner she could leave this awful place, the better.

“ _Hello, brother. I see you and your bride are enjoying your feast,_ ” she said to Roan. 

“Heda, welcome,” Clarke offered, trying to resist the urge to gag.

Ontari’s eyes flicked to her. “Are you ready, _skaigada_? In two days time, you become the Commander’s sister. _It is quite the honor_ ," she commented in Trig, clearly testing Clarke's understanding of the language. Since she was supposed to have been learning from Roan over the past few weeks, she let Ontari see her acknowledgement of the statement.

Clarke bit her tongue and forced herself to smile. “Quite the honor. It is indeed a position of great importance.”

Not to her, but someone somewhere would see it as important. Maybe.

Ontari smirked and walked closer. Clarke forced herself to remain steady. “Hmm. So are you ready?” she asked again. “To be Azgeda? Have you cut all allegiances to Floukru? They will be here in the morning I’m told. Will that be a problem?”

Clarke’s heart skipped a beat at the news of her clan’s imminent arrival and she had to beat back the flush that threatened to creep up her neck. “Of course not.”

Ontari stared her down for a moment so Clarke tried to mask her anticipation of seeing Bellamy and whoever else was coming with him, and instead tried to project indifference. Ontari’s lips twitched up to the side. 

“I guess we will find out where your allegiances truly lie, hmm? Don’t forget, if you refuse, I will take out my vengeance on that little oceanside village. I will wipe my chambers with their blood. Lexa’s skull atop my throne is getting a little brittle, it’ll be good to have someone else’s to replace it. Am I being understood?”

Clarke’s mouth flooded with the taste of copper and she vaguely registered how hard she was biting her tongue - it was definitely bleeding now with the effort it was taking not to take her knife and stab Ontari to rid the world of her.

Ivon’s face flashed in her mind, the memory of taking someone’s life still fresh, no matter whether it was in self-defense or not. It still chilled her to the core, something she'd have to live with forever. And while Ontari definitely didn’t deserve to continue walking the Earth, Clarke wasn’t sure she'd actually be able to get away with it, nor did she wish to see Ontari’s lifeless eyes in her mind for the rest of her life.

Besides, she’d most likely be killed, along with her family and friends and that wasn’t a chance she was willing to take. At least not without some sort of leverage.

She forced her head to nod in understanding, not trusting her voice to not shout obscenities at her, or her mouth not to spit the blood that had pooled in her mouth at her. 

Ontari sneered a moment longer and turned on her heel with a flourish. 

The second she was out of sight, Clarke closed her eyes, trying to calm the tremors that were ravaging her body. Her limbs felt cold and detached, like they weren’t even a part of her body anymore. She willed the tears back and tried to focus on the beat of her heart, but it wasn’t steady by any stretch of the imagination. So she decided to try to recall the consistent beat of Bellamy’s heart, the way it felt against her cheek and the palm of her hand. The way it sped up a little when she was near, the warmth of his chest, the strength of his arms wrapped around her.

“Clarke,” she heard Roan say quietly.

It wasn’t the first anxiety attack he’d witnessed, and he knew to allow her a minute to work through it. The first time he had, he’d tried to put a hand on her shoulder, but that had only made it worse. She didn’t want his touch or his comfort.

She shook her head minutely, trying to convey that she wasn’t finished processing through it yet. 

She felt something touch the back of her fist at her side and she jerked away instinctively before registering it wasn’t him that had touched her, it’d been a piece of wood. Finally realizing what it was that he was trying to give her, she opened a shaky hand and accepted the small lighthouse into her fist. Clarke brought it up to her heart, clutching it as her breathing evened out.

When she finally opened her eyes, Roan was sitting on the couch, nibbling on some crackers.

“Your food is going to get cold,” he told her, pointing to her half eaten leg she’d left on the table when Ontari walked in. There was no teasing or malice in his words, just distraction. She nodded and headed over to finish her meal, grateful he didn’t try talking to her about it.

***

Bellamy approached Polis, Miller on his right and Murphy on his left in the early morning of the day before Clarke and Roan were supposed to get married.

Murphy didn’t often come with him on his trips to Polis - Bellamy knew how he hated the journey and the cold and the politics and he hated riding horses. But he needed someone who was good with words and would be good in a pinch. That fit Murphy completely. And he hadn’t protested, once Bellamy had explained the plan. In fact, he’d barely had to get the words out before Murphy agreed.

It was risky. Simple, but really risky and possibly stupid. That was right up Murphy’s alley and sure enough, he’d jumped at the chance.

Octavia had begged to come, but there was no way he was putting her in that position again. She’d been furious with him that he wasn’t taking her, arguing that she was one of his best warriors, and while she was absolutely right about that, there was too much unpredictability in what he was going to do, and he just couldn’t have her around that. She’d understood, eventually.

It turned out that him and MIller got along well, and Miller’s eyes for strategy had helped out greatly. He’d been instrumental in getting the plan together and since Bellamy needed Anya, Lincoln and Luna back at Sonchahou and on the Rig, ready to go if the situation warranted, it had been a no-brainer asking Miller to come along. He’d have brought David, but Miller had extra motivation with Clarke involved, and he knew she’d appreciate seeing her friend again. Especially since he assumed she didn’t know how Jasper and Miller were, or if they’d even made it Sonchahou safely.

He steered their horses towards the Polis stables, his heart beating a little wild, knowing how close he was to Clarke. It was going to take every ounce of self-control not to sweep her up in his arms the second he saw her. She was right, he used his heart far more often than his head. But she was counting on him using his head as well to get them out of this. So that was what he was going to do.

But that also involved bringing people in that he didn’t trust, like Roan. Everything felt like it was hanging by a thread. Too much, and it would snap. Every move they made from then on needed to be perfect.

He tried to tell himself to hold on just a little while longer.

A little while longer and everything would change.

***

Clarke had roused early, with the cold sun streaming through the windows of the house. She went to the washroom around back to get cleaned up, not sure when she’d get another chance. There was an early dinner with the coalition ambassadors once the witnesses from each clan arrived. That would be her first chance to see Bellamy, since she was supposed to be locked away, allowed no contact until the dinner.

It was ridiculously sexist and irritated her to no end, since apparently Roan could wander about freely.

She resisted asking him to get a message to Bellamy, since she didn’t want them getting caught. She had to trust in whatever Bellamy had planned. She knew she should’ve come up with a plan of her own, probably, but short of killing Ontari, there wasn’t anything she could think of to do that didn’t get all of Sonchahou killed, which murdering Ontari would do anyway as well. 

Clarke braided her wet hair down over one shoulder, shivering with the cold. She forced herself to eat breakfast, even though her stomach was flipping over and over with nerves. She needed to maintain her strength. So she sat on the couch, eating and drawing, trying to get the tremble to leave her fingers..

Roan walked out of his room. “I’m headed to greet the delegates that have arrived in Polis. Anything you want me to tell lover boy?” he asked with a smirk.

“Nope,” she shook her head sweetly, causing Roan’s eyes to narrow. 

“You know you can trust me with whatever the plan is, right?”

“What’s wrong? Getting nervous?” she taunted.

Roan gritted his teeth. “Not a chance. I love leaving things until the last minute,” he said sarcastically. All she did was shrug. “You’d better know what you’re doing, Griffin.”

She didn’t respond, only gave him a nod before he was off. 

About an hour later, the door to the house creaked open and someone slipped inside. Tears sprang to her eyes as she took in who was standing in front of her. 

“ _Heyo flougada._ ”

***

Bellamy, Miller, and Murphy were standing off to the side, going over the next step of the plan for the thirtieth time.

“Yeah, I got it Bellamy, we’ve been through every aspect to the second,” Murphy said, rolling his eyes. 

“I know, but we’re going to have to operate completely under the radar. The second someone realizes what’s going on, we’re toast. Then we’ll never get close enough to her. And I can’t let that happen,” he said firmly.

“We won’t. You aren’t alone in this. You’ve got both of us backing you up.”

“You sure _you’re_ up for your parts?” Bellamy asked Murphy, eyebrow quirked.

Murphy scoffed like he was offended. “Please, I’ve been training my whole life for this kind of subterfuge.”

Bellamy let out a dry, nervous chuckle and noticed Miller was shifting from one foot to the other a little uncomfortably.

“You okay there, Miller?”

“Yeah, I just - there’s a lot of them. This isn’t going to be easy. You sure we’re going to be able to pull this off?”

“We have to,” Murphy answered for him, eyes murderous.

***

Clarke flew across the room and jumped into Murphy’s arms. “I can’t believe you’re here!”

Murphy grinned wolfishly. “Well it isn’t a party if I’m not there. Even though it is _so fucking cold_ here.”

“Shut up ass. It better not be a party _at all_. Is Bellamy here?” she asked, looking at the door. Murphy wasn’t supposed to even be here, but she’d still hoped that Bellamy would find a way in. 

“Wow. Not even a ‘hey how’re you Murphy? Missed you.’? I’m glad you at least seem to _remember_ me,” he teased.

“Murphy.”

“Yeah he’s here. Of course he’s here. And dead set on burning down all of Polis if he has to.”

Tears were still leaking from her eyes and she wiped at them hastily. “So does he have a plan?”

“Ooh yeah, he’s got one alright,” he whistled.

“And?” she prompted, smacking him in the shoulder.

“And it’s good. It’ll work. We’re… almost positive.”

She put a hand over her face. “Murphy!”

“I can’t - I’m not supposed to tell you yet. But I need to tell you, after dinner, stick… stick next to Roan okay?”

“What, Roan? Murphy?” she asked again, getting frustrated. There was a commotion outside and he glanced quickly at the window and her eyes followed. 

“That’s my cue. Hang in there. It’s almost over.” He gave her another quick hug and turned to leave, then stopped. “Oh, he wanted me to ask you something stupid... Are you still breathing?” 

Her breath hitched, ironically, and her heart sped up. _Have hope_.

“Yeah, tell him I’m still breathing,” she managed to croak out. 

Murphy rolled his eyes and nodded and was gone. With him went all the air in the room, sucked after him, like her lungs got a taste of what it was to breathe real oxygen, not whatever it was in the air in Polis. 

_Hang in there._

\------------------------

Clarke kept hoping Murphy would come back, or whoever else was with Bellamy. She’d obviously been hoping it would him, but she knew he wouldn’t take that risk. But she needed to talk with him, figure out what the plan was, how she fit into it. Clarke wondered what was so important about it that Bellamy had to tell her himself.

All she’d gotten was to stick with Roan after dinner, like she wasn’t going to be forced to do that anyway like she’d had to for the past few weeks. She was sick of sticking with him. She didn’t want _him_.

Still, Murphy said that Bellamy did indeed have a plan, like she’d known he would, so if that was what he needed from her, she’d gladly do it. Just the idea that she was actually getting out this was enough to keep her moving forward. Even if the dinner ended up being the most painful thing that she’d ever done. 

She was wrong. It wasn’t painful.

It ended up being fucking _agonizing_.

After staring at the ridiculous outfit Ontari had sent over to her for a good ten minutes, she sucked in the poisonous air through her teeth and started putting it on. It ended up taking longer than any piece of clothing should take to put on, and she kept wiggling around in it, like if she frowned hard enough, it wouldn’t be so _tight_.

There was a thin layer of snow covering the ground outside, gray and mushy, and she was beginning to feel like she was in one of those ice boxes they had on the Ark. Which made what she was wearing all the worse. It was long sleeved and black, skin tight through her hips and flaring out around her knees, stretching past her feet on the floor, dragging some behind her. The neckline plunged to just above her belly button in the front, showing off way too much cleavage. If it came down to a fight, she’d be better off straight up naked.

Wouldn’t that be fun.

There was a dark gray pelt to cover her shoulders and heels that Ontari had sent over, though she ditched those and put her boots back on, since the dress would cover her feet anyway. It was fucking freezing and she was stuck wearing _that_. 

Wherever Ontari was, Clarke was sure she was laughing. 

What made it even worse was when an Azgeda servant came in, insisting on doing Clarke’s hair and make-up, and telling her that Ontari wished for her to project confidence in the union. She wished to show everyone where Clarke and Skaikru allegiances layed. 

They could dress her up all they wanted. Clarke’s allegiance would _never_ lie with Azgeda.

She got into the lift at the base of the tower where Roan was waiting for her, extending his elbow out to her. It didn’t escape her attention or her annoyance that while he was dressed up some, he still looked _normal_.

“You look ridiculous,” he whispered to her, even though they were the only ones on the lift.

She snorted. “I _feel_ ridiculous.”

“Bellamy will like it though,” he said a little too salaciously. “Even if you _do_ look a little too Azgeda. That dress doesn’t leave much to the imagination,” he said with a smirk.

“I could give you a black eye to match my dress, if you’d like,”

He let out a laugh. “I don’t doubt it. My ribs already have a reminder of how much you’ve improved on your fighting skills.”

When the doors opened, there was a crowd of people in the room and they all stood as she and Roan stepped out. Ontari sat at a long table at the back of the room and remained seated. Clarke supposed she rose for no one. 

It was like a magnet drawing her eyes in the direction he stood. It was like there was a link between their bodies, her instantly finding him in the crowd. She made sure to keep her expression impassive and her feet steady, though the instant they locked eyes, it was like everything and everyone else melted away and she fought the urge to run to him. His eyes were focused and intense, his facial muscles twitching only slightly at his lips where she knew if he smiled, she’d be able to see dimples, despite the stubble across his jaw.

She forced herself to tear her gaze away from him, not wanting to give anything away but almost stumbled in surprise when she saw Miller standing next to him. He looked good, a little thinner than she’d seen him last, but still the strong and steady man she remembered. Murphy stood watching her with a smirk on his face and shook his head a little.

She scanned the rest of the crowd and forced her feet to follow Roan, letting him guide her around. They met each witness that had been assembled, and tried furiously to remember each one. When it came time for them to greet Floukru, her mouth suddenly went dry and she was having trouble remembering how to breathe correctly.

Ontari had joined them at that point, talking to Clarke with condescension, as if she was a puppet incapable of introducing herself. Which, she supposed, was exactly how she’d wanted Ontari to view her. A pawn capable of being controlled easily.

It was still fucking aggravating though.

“I believe there is little need of introduction to your former captors, Bellamy kom Floukru. And his associates?” She saw Bellamy's eye flash for less than a second at Ontari calling him one of her captors.

Then Bellamy spoke for the first time since he’d arrived and Clarke hadn’t realized just how starved she’d been to hear his voice. “John Murphy, and Nathan Miller. It is a pleasure to see you again, Princess,” he added, grabbing her hand to place a searing kiss on her knuckles. As he leaned over, she saw his eyes rake down her body and she had to bite her lip to keep from grinning. But that didn’t stop the fire sparking low in her stomach.

She repressed the shiver that ran up her spine, the one that _ached_ to close the gap between them, to feel his lips not on her hand, but on her own lips, to feel his strong arms wrap her up, his hands against her back, pulling her closer. Roan squeezed her arm a little, indicating that she was supposed to say something and she blinked rapidly around for a moment before responding, knowing Ontari was watching their reunion closely.

“Thank you, for attending my wedding. It is important that all clans be here to witness this union,” she told him diplomatically. Roan took over then, stretching his forearm out to Bellamy.

“Glad you could make it man,” he said and she could feel Ontari roll her eyes at her brother. She caught Bellamy’s eye one more time before they parted, the fury in them masked to everyone except her. But also… something akin to anticipation, maybe?

“Yes, we are all so pleased that you could tear yourself away from the sand long enough to make it here,” Ontari sneered at him and she caught Murphy step forward just a fraction, his arms tensing. 

“Wouldn’t miss it,” Bellamy assured her, giving nothing away.

“Come on, let’s get seated, hmm?” Roan leaned over to her ear, and she could see Bellamy’s shoulders tense at how close Roan had gotten. 

“Sure.” They walked away and Roan pulled her chair out to her, which took some maneuvering on her part to sit in without popping out of her dress. 

“That was close,” Roan murmured to her. “Told you he’d like the dress.”

“Shut up,” she said through gritted teeth and Clarke was sure her lip was going to start bleeding any moment from the effort it was taking to keep her mouth shut.

She resisted the urge to look at him all through dinner, even when Ontari left the room briefly. She couldn’t risk one of the other clans noticing her attachment to Floukru, since she wasn’t sure which ones were loyal to Azgeda. 

She picked at her food, wanting to make sure to eat something, but she couldn’t taste any of it. It all felt incredibly hollow.

Then suddenly dinner was over and Ontari brought the two of them up front, giving them a traditional wedding blessing in Trigedasleng. 

Once all the pleasantries were over, and they were back in the lift on the way down, she detached herself from Roan’s arm and slouched against the wall, exhausted. She remembered that part of the plan was for her to stick with Roan at this point, but she was getting anxious.

She’d expected to go back to the house, but Instead he guided her around back and through the dark forest that laid just behind. After walking so far that the lights from Polis had dimmed considerably, she asked him sarcastically,“Is this part where you kill me?” She was grateful she’d decided to wear her boots instead of those ridiculous heels.

He raised his eyebrows at her. “I think _he_ might have a tiny problem with that,” he told her, nodding towards the tiny cabin that she hadn’t noticed was there before. Clarke snapped her head to him and he just grinned at her. 

“Roan…” 

“Well go on then, I’ve got you covered,” he told her. “Miller and Murphy are covering him. You two won’t have long, so no funny business.”

Clarke glared at him and then back to the cabin. Roan turned and stalked deeper into the forest instead of back to Polis, presumably so he could say they were together. She’d never been more grateful for her new ally.

She practically ran the rest of the way, up the steps and she slammed into the door, opening it less than gracefully, stumbling over the ridiculous fabric of her dress in her haste. She expected to slam her head into the wood floor when a pair of warm arms caught her. 

“Whoa there, Princess,” Bellamy said softly and he got her up on two feet again. Her eye level was at his chest and she scanned her eyes up to his shoulders, his neck, his jaw, his lips, his cheeks, before resting on his eyes, which of course were already looking at her. Every nerve ending in her body felt like it was on fire. She shrugged her pelt off and tossed it aside just so she wouldn’t overheat, as if it were the air around them that was making her warm, and not the blaze in her veins.

“Hey,” he breathed, so quiet that the crackle of the fire in the hearth almost drowned out his voice. 

“Hi,” she managed to get out and without even thinking about it, or working up to anything, she closed the gap between them immediately, her lips colliding with his and her hands sliding up his chest to his hair, nails scraping lightly against his scalp where just over three weeks ago she’d found made him make noises that threatened to completely make her fall apart.

She was more than pleased to find that was still accurate.

He returned her kiss with one of equal intensity, his hands that were already on her waist from having caught her squeezing and tugging her in closer, until there was no more space left between their bodies, her bruises from training faded enough at that point to be just a dull ache in the back of her mind. 

She had far more important things to focus on .

He spun them around and backed her up against the wall, crowding her in. She rolled up into him, eliciting a low growl from his throat and she smiled against his lips. His lips left hers and started skimming her jaw until they reached her ear. It was his turn to rock his body into hers at the same time he said low in her ear, “Fuck, Clarke.”

She let out a small giggle as he continued working his way down her neck, reaching her collarbone. His hands never left her waist, tightening every so often like he was reminding himself to keep them there instead of wandering.

“Bellamy - ” she gasped out as he hit a spot just under her jaw. 

He stood up, still only inches from her face, but the heated look in his eyes looked like he’d much rather be doing other things.

“I told you I’d come for you,” he said cheekily.

“I never had any doubt you would,” she matched. “So you got a plan to share with me?” she asked.

He let his eyes drop to her lips, then _lower_ , moving his body back just a fraction from her so he could take in the front of her dress before raising his gaze back up to look her in the eyes again, his pupils now blown completely. “I do… I just got a little... distracted.”

She smiled wide and he returned hers with one of his own. She didn’t realize how little use those muscles in her cheeks had gotten over the past few weeks. But now, she couldn’t stop.

“Oh yeah? Why?” she asked, trailing a finger down his chest lightly until she felt his whole body shiver and his eyes blinked heavily. 

“Clarke…are you okay?” he asked gently, eyes boring into her and voice full of concern, his hand coming up to brush her hair off her cheek, fingertips so gentle. She knew she looked and probably even seemed different, having been in the company of the people she had for weeks. Her muscles were more defined, all that training had been good for something, definitely, but that wasn’t what he meant.

“I am now,” she answered honestly, tearing up a little. Because she was. She felt like she’d been holding her breath for three weeks, surviving just to survive. But with him it was never just surviving. He was the very definition of _living_. “You’re really here,” she said, wiping her eyes. “Is everyone okay? Miller, Jasper, they made it alright? I saw Miller with you…”

“Yeah, everyone is fine, thanks to you,” he told her and she let out a relieved breath, nodding. “You saved them by coming here,” he assured her softly.

She nodded. They weren’t home, not yet, but they were each other’s refuge and when they were together, in each other’s arms, _that was home_. And there were _so many other important things_ they needed to discuss, but at that moment, she was completely consumed by every sense of hers that was heightened by his mere presence and she couldn’t give a flying _fuck_ how much time they had left. 

He nodded and tipped his forehead to hers, closing his eyes and humming a little. He leaned over to capture her lips again. “Fuck, we’re never going to get anything done if we keep doing this.”

“Oh, I think we’re getting a _lot_ done doing this,” she teased.

He growled low again and she felt his fingers twitch and slide up her back, his thumbs _just barely_ brushing on the underside of her chest, but it still caused her to gasp in his mouth and he quirked his lips up in a smirk. 

He pulled back again and she took a moment to appreciate his flushed face, his swollen lips and the heat of his body that had nothing to do with the fire roaring behind them. 

“I love you,” he whispered to her and Clarke’s eyes widened. 

“No. You - you’re not supposed to - you can’t. Not yet.” Clarke shook her head. 

“Do you trust me?”

“Yes,” she answered without hesitation. 

“I love you,” he said again, placing a chaste kiss on her lips. 

“You - the plan - I’m supposed to be getting married tomorrow unless we stop it. Bellamy - ”

“You still are.”

“What? I don’t un - what?” she asked again, confused.

“I love you,” he said again and each time he said it, it wormed itself farther in, wrapping around her heart and feeding her soul and she can’t believe she ever asked him not to say it. “And you _are_ still getting married tomorrow - well, tonight. Just not to Roan. To me. If you’ll have me,” he told her softly, hands coming up to wrap around her neck, their foreheads almost touching.

Her face went flush, and her voice completely disappeared. 

“What?” she asked again, barely audible. She needed him to say it again, to make sure she didn’t misunderstand him, make sure she wasn’t hallucinating. 

“Clarke Griffin. I _love you_. I’m _in_ love with you, in every way, to the very core of every inch of me. Will you marry me?”

The only sound left was her sharp intake of breath.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ❤
> 
> Brief little shout out to dcarj who totally brought up Bell marrying Clarke first in the comments section on 17. I totally had to ignore that part of your comment so I wouldn't give anything away haha! And Vera_Pendragon who talked about Roan possibly sparring/training her!
> 
> I'm sorry if I missed anyone else who had theorized about it, that was just who came to mind while writing this note! 
> 
> Hope everyone enjoyed that chapter, I certainly enjoyed writing it! We see more details behind all of this in the next chapter. I would usually say Sunday, but that's going to be hard for me to get done, so I'm planning for Monday morning.
> 
> If you want to check out the amazing moodboard [grounderkingbellamy](https://grounderkingbellamy.tumblr.com/) made for this fic, click [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488) for my tumblr!
> 
> Love to you all! ❤


	20. Chapter 20

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> You all are freaking incredible and seriously I love all of you ❤
> 
> Hope you are all staying healthy and safe and had a good weekend!

**_1.5 weeks ago_ **

“Luna, _please_. This is the best option.”

He and Luna went way back. They knew each other well, he knew her even before she married Derrick. He was there when they made that commitment, that unbreakable bond.

He knew that Luna would be the hardest sell of this entire plan. She never did anything that put their clan in any kind of crosshairs - it was part of what made her such a wonderful leader. Any hint of violence and she would shut it down. He tried not to think of what that made him. Not that he was angling for violence of any sort, despite the many things the impulsive and resentful side of him would like to do to Ontari

She had a soft spot for love though, so he was counting on that to get through to her. Because, ultimately, if she agreed to it and things went off without a hitch, the village would be in no danger _and_ they - _he_ \- would have Clarke back.

“Bellamy,” she said softly. “We can’t do all of this for one girl. I’m sure you’ve gotten to be her friend, but all this would be is a bluff, and I can’t risk Ontari calling us on it. I will not start a war,” she said firmly. He realized he had presented it wrong, in his rush to get her approval, without taking the time to explain what Clarke meant to him. She thought he was just doing this to help Clarke out, instead of doing it because he truly wanted to spend his life with her. 

“You won’t,” he assured her. “There will be no war. Please, Luna, she isn’t just another friend, or member of the village. I - I love her. Even if this wasn’t the situation, I’d _still_ want to marry her. Please don’t ask me to just leave her there. What if it were Derrick?”

“Don’t go there. He is my husband.”

“And I want Clarke to be my wife,” he made the point. “Just let me make this play. If this goes sideways, I’ll - I’ll deal with it. But you can’t ask me to go to the wedding and just _let her marry someone else_.”

Luna contemplated him for a while. She could’ve won her conclave, absolutely would have if she didn’t decide that she couldn’t kill anyone else. She could’ve been Commander, not Ontari. He always tried not to dwell too much on that, or he’d end up resenting the leader of their clan for not stepping up and stopping Azgeda’s reign. 

Any time he’d even thought it, she’d shut him down, not wanting to threaten even one more innocent life. And he understood. He’d been in battle before, when he was younger and things were more volatile between the clans. Taking someone's life, no matter how much they deserved it or whether it was in self-defense, he knew first hand how that stayed with someone.

Technically speaking, since Luna was a _natblida_ , she could challenge Ontari for the Flame. It was what kept their village safe in the first place - that Ontari knew she’d probably lose if it came down to it. Ontari would have to call on the coalition and there was no guarantee they’d follow her into exterminating an entire clan. Especially since many of the twelve clans would rather have Luna as the Commander than her. 

And most of the time, Bellamy and Luna were happy to be left in peace. But there was no way he could let this stand. They couldn’t have Clarke.

“I will not start a war,” she repeated and Bellamy deflated. “But… make your play. Go get her. Do your best. But I’m warning you, Bellamy. _I will not start a war_. A bluff is all that it is.”

She walked over to her desk and pulled out a piece of paper and some ink. She spent some time writing something down before rolling it up and sealing it with her personalized wax seal that all clan leaders had. 

“Give this to her. Love is strength, not weakness, Bellamy, and we don’t always get to choose who we love. But we choose who we fight for. If you love her as much as you say - ”

“I do.”

“Then fight for her. Make your play,” she commissioned him with an understanding smile.

He grabbed the rolled up paper and set it carefully in his jacket pocket, bid her goodbye, and went out to meet the boats.

From the middle of the ocean, the horizon looked so serene, and the shore was undisturbed, like there was no danger, no fear, nothing that couldn’t be solved. 

One part of his plan had come through. Now he needed to put the rest of the pieces together so that Ontari would have no choice but to back down. There were a lot of variables, but he had a lot of hope. And at the end of the day, he was sure that would be enough.

It had to be.

\------------------------

“Clarke Griffin. I _love you_. I’m _in_ love with you, in every way, to the very core of every inch of me. Will you marry me?”

The only sound left was her sharp intake of breath.

Her soft and slightly swollen lips from the frantic kissing they’d done just a moment ago parted slightly as she sucked in oxygen, and he could practically see the wheels in her mind trying to figure out how it all fit together. 

He couldn’t stop staring at her lips.

“You should probably say something before I begin to think that you’d rather marry Roan,” he said humorlessly. 

He wasn’t nervous; he knew she loved him like he knew the exact shade of blue her eyes made with each emotion she felt. It would sound cocky to anyone else, but it was one of those facts that seemed to make the world go round. It was inevitable, that they’d end up where they did, in love, in danger, taking on the world together. 

It wouldn’t be them without that. 

Some people get a straightforward love, not less, just not as difficult to have and to keep. His sister had that, despite her and Lincoln’s struggles early on, and Harper and Monty had that. They never had to fight for it, not like he now has to for Clarke, but there wasn’t a doubt in his mind that they _wouldn’t_ fight. He knew it would be worth it to them, just like Clarke was worth it to him. 

_Anything worth having is worth fighting for._

His mother had said that, and had told him to fight for her. She was more than worth any fighting he’d have to do. And the moment she said it, he’d instantly known _how_ he was going to fight for her. 

Clarke let out a little breathy laugh at his half joke about Roan, and shit he missed and loved that sound more than anything. Even more than the little moan she makes when he kisses her on that spot under her ear. 

Not that he didn’t love that too. 

“So?” he prompted again, relishing just a little in the way he’d taken her off guard. Clarke was rarely ever caught by surprise, always thinking three steps ahead of everything and everyone else.

“So… Bellamy. You - what?” she asked, smiling a little like her mind was finally catching up and she needed to hear him say it again.

He’d say it for the rest of his life if she wanted him to.

“I - love - you,” he told her again in between quick kisses. 

“Yes,” she said abruptly.

“Yes?”

“Yes.”

“That’s it? No more questions, no double checking that my plan is solid, that I’ve thought everything through - ”

“No.”

“No?”

“Stop repeating me,” she said playfully. “Would I appreciate some details? Sure. You know what a control freak I am. But do I trust you?” She shook her head a little like she’d just said something funny. “Bell. I trust you more than anything and anyone else in this entire world. And even if we _weren’t_ trying to keep me from marrying into a clan that is violent, and cold, and abusive, and loves murder a questionable amount, I would still marry you. I want to spend the rest of my life with you. Of course I’ll marry you.”

Bellamy was sure he’d never smiled wider, that his heart had never been quite this big.

He was pretty sure that _no one_ in the history of the world, this or the old one, had ever been this in love, however cheesy that was.

He dipped down to put his hands securely around her waist, backing away from the wall he was still crowding her against and twirled her around, eliciting a larger than life smile and squeal from her as well.

“Say it again,” she whispered in his ear. 

“I love you,” he repeated, looking in her eyes that were lighter and impossibly more blue than they’d been earlier. 

When he saw her walk in on Roan’s arm at the dinner, it took everything in him not to storm up to her. To kiss her or kidnap her back, he wasn’t entirely sure, but it was only Miller and Murphy’s hands on his shoulder that stopped him. 

She was beautiful, had always been stunning, but he was pretty sure he actually stopped breathing. He knew she wasn’t a fan of dresses, but the way it hugged her figure perfectly, it looked like it was made for her. 

She fit right in with the image of Azgeda, which was a little jarring, but even if she had gone through with marrying Roan, she would never be one of them. She held too much light, had too much dignity, too much honor. It was a shame she was not a _natblida_ , she would have made an inspiring Commander.

The twelve clans would thrive under her leadership, her goodness, her righteousness. But she could never be Azgeda, never be taught that ruthlessness was necessary. She’d never be able to treat anyone as less than. 

She held the power to calm storms, move mountains, command the stars if she wanted. How could he possibly stand with her and not be moved by her? 

How could he not want to spend his entire life with her? 

Bellamy took a deep breath. “Okay, we don’t have much time. Roan is going to be back in a second,” he started, glancing at the door as if the man in question was going to appear at the mere mention of his name. When Bellamy had taken him aside earlier while Murphy went to see Clarke, it had barely taken five seconds to convince the man to help him. “You’re going back with him to his house,” he told her.

“No, I’m not leaving you.”

“You have to. Because I need to go get Titus. He’s the only one who can perform this ceremony without any room for argument from Ontari. He’s the only one she won’t be able to try to invalidate it with. Roan and I have already spoken with the man.”

“Isn’t he bound to Ontari as her flamekeeper? Why would he agree to this?” she asked. Bellamy knew she trusted him, like she’d told him only moments before, but he could also see her curiosity getting the better of her. 

“He was loyal to the Commander before her, Lexa. He is only loyal to Ontari because of the Flame, in duty only. And Lexa ruled with peace and not tyranny before an Azgeda assassin got to her. It wasn’t hard to convince him this way was better. He’s never agreed with Azgeda’s ways.”

“And what’s to stop Ontari from killing Titus for treason? She is going to be furious. I don’t want Titus dying for me.”

Bellamy hesitated. This was one of the more risky parts and he hated putting Titus’s life on the line, but he’d been honest with the man about what was risking and Titus assured him it was worth it. He hated serving Ontari and hated doing her bidding like a slave. “It’s a risk, but he’s the last flamekeeper and trains new noviates, and there would be no one else to carry on the traditions and ceremonies that he’s responsible for. Her hands will be tied. And despite how much she hates him and him her, she still listens to him. So he’s agreed to convince her that this is a suitable arrangement. That Azgeda and Skaikru will still technically be bound together, since you are still married to a clan of the coalition and Azgeda controls that coalition. 

“Marriage is something that can’t really be undone once it is complete. It’s sacred. We don’t believe in divorce like in Old Earth except under the most extraordinary circumstances, and even in those cases, it’s more often one or both parties are killed. So even if she is angry she can’t undo it,” he explained further, to both assure her and inform her of the importance of what she was about to agree to with him. 

“But Bell, she _can_ and will take it out on others. She’ll find a way to punish us, which will most likely be through our people, our _family_. Bellamy, they’ll all be in danger.”

He shook his head. This was where Luna came in. “I spoke with Luna. Ontari is scared of Luna, of her _natblida_ and beloved status. She hasn’t used that as a threat to Ontari before, and has agreed to a bluff.”

“A bluff?” Clarke asked tentatively.

He hesitated. “Yeah, a bluff. She won’t start an actual war, but she gave me her blessing to threaten one if Ontari retalitates. We’re hoping that Ontari understands that if Floukru and Azgeda get into a war that a good portion of her coalition will side with Floukru and that it will be more trouble than it’s worth just to punish us.”

“That’s a lot of ifs, Bell,” she said quietly and for a moment, he was terrified that it was too much for her to agree to, that she would decide it was too risky. “It’s too bad Luna won’t actually start a war. Not that I’d really want one, of course, but Ontari is… a different level of evil. She’s cruel and soulless, and power hungry.”

“I know. But that’s a problem for another day. What I’m concerned with right now, is you. And getting you out of here.”

“Yeah,” she breathed. “That’d be good.” Clarke closed her eyes and he saw her eyelids starting to moisten. He leaned over and kissed her softly, both of their emotions raw. She smiled against him and her hands came up to cup his cheeks. 

“Are you - ” he started, wanting to hear everything, to take some of the burdens of the last few weeks that were clearly weighing her down, but there wasn’t enough time. They needed to get back before someone noticed they were missing. Murphy could only stall so long. Bellamy had slipped out before Roan and Clarke at dinner so he could beat her to this cabin and if Ontari caught them, that’d be it. It’d be all over. But it killed him to see the slump of her shoulders, the circles under her eyes, the heavy way she was breathing, like it was taking effort just to keep standing. 

She was strong, _so fucking strong_ , but he wanted so badly to shoulder it with her. To make sure she knew she wasn’t alone. 

“I know you’re not okay,” he finally decided to say. She winced and glanced away. “But I need you to know, you aren’t alone. Clarke,” he said gently, pulling her gaze back to him. “I love you. I’ve got you.”

“You always do,” she responded quietly.

“Just a little while longer, okay?”

She nodded and before they could say anything else, the door cracked open and he hurriedly shoved her behind him on instinct. Roan’s voice carried through the cabin. 

“Hey lovebirds, I hope everyone is dressed and everything because time’s up and I’m coming in!” he announced and Bellamy rolled his eyes. “Or don’t get redressed, I don’t mind.”

“You’re an ass Roan, we aren’t doing anything,” Clarke shot at him.

“Pity. That’ll make for a boring marriage,” he taunted. 

Clarke pushed passed Bellamy, ducking under his outstretched arm and picked up her pelt to put back on her shoulders. And just like that, he saw her wall of steel was back up, ready to armor herself against a fight. “Let’s just do this,” she mumbled.

“Wow, Blake, she doesn’t sound very excited,” he taunted, eyebrow raised. Bellamy glared at him.

“Shut up Roan," she snarked, rolling her eyes at him. "I’m excited to get out of this fucking place and back home - ” then looking at Bellamy, “ - where I belong.”

He walked up to her. “I’ll see you in a little while okay? Keep out of sight, wait for me.”

She nodded. “Be safe.”

He gave her a nod of his own and was out the door without any more thinking about it. He couldn't hesitate any longer. There were a few more pieces to put into play and it had to be done now. He had to trust that Clarke could handle herself on her own. He knew she could, but he still hated walking away.

***

“You okay?” Roan asked her after Bellamy had left, with a surprising amount of concern.

“Of course I am,” she answered. He looked at her appraisingly with that ridiculous eyebrow raised, but she just rolled her eyes. “Are we going to get a move on, or not?”

Clarke didn’t wait to see if he was following her, she just walked over to the fireplace, dousing the flames with water and watching for a moment as it fizzled out, crackling as they extinguished, and made for the door, throwing it open and embracing the cold.

The snow crunched under her boots and she was aware of the goosebumps that appeared on her skin under her clothing, and she could see her breath in the air. She tried to focus her emotions on the chill that went all the way to her bones. While there was a plan, and it _seemed_ like Bellamy had thought of all the ramifications of this decision, there was a part of her incredibly nervous at the ways this could go wrong. It was simple in its idea, complicated in the execution. 

And if there was one thing she’d learned about Ontari, it was how unpredictable she was, and volatile. They could do everything right, think of every contingency, but in the end, if Ontari didn’t get _exactly_ what she wanted, there was a good chance she’d burn the whole world to the ground, starting with them.

But Clarke wasn’t afraid of a little fire. The last few months she’d been forged in fire, and came out the other side. So she’d fight Ontari’s fire with her own. 

And hers came from love, which was a strength and not a weakness. Kindness, peace, hope… those things that Ontari thought so little of would be Clarke’s advantage.

Roan caught up with her within a few long strides and they walked quietly back to his house and she immediately got to work taking off her makeup and shaking out her hair. If she was going to marry Bellamy, it wasn’t going to be while she looked like Azgeda. She was going to do it looking like herself. 

_Flougada._

She didn’t have any nice clothes besides the dress she’d worn to the dinner and there was no way she was wearing that, so she’d have to settle for her normal pants/shirt/jacket combo. She hated dressing up anyway.

Until -

“Murphy left a gift for you from Harper and Octavia, apparently,” Ronan sounded by the doorway, holding up another dress. 

She recognized it instantly as the dress she’d worn to the bonfire a couple months ago, the one she’d almost not bothered with. It had been altered, she noticed, the thin straps had been transformed into long sleeves, and the length extended, probably touching the floor now, and delicate lace overlaid the skirt.

She hated wearing dresses, hated how impractical they were.

But this wedding was incredibly _practical_. Decided upon because it was the most pragmatic way of getting her out of Polis. 

Except.

They were in love. Any wedding of theirs was never going to be strictly practical. It was about their love for each other as much as it was anything else. So maybe it wouldn’t be the worst thing to do or wear something _impractical._

It was a wedding after all. _Her_ wedding. The only one she’d ever really have. 

She felt a little pang at the idea that her parents weren’t going to be here for it. So many things were going to be different when they finally arrived. _If_ they ever actually came down from space. As far as they know, they all died of radiation and that was why they never radioed back.

And if it were a gift from Octavia and Harper, and they weren’t going to get to be here for it either, then she’d do her best to have them be a part of it.

After she was dressed, her hair braided over one shoulder and heels on this time, she sat near the fire in their living room watching the flames dance around each other. She should be more tired than she felt, but there was still adrenaline pumping through her veins keeping her alert.

Roan was quiet too, probably contemplating all the ways he was going to pay for being complicit in this plan. If he ever actually admitted to it. There was a good chance this all went sideways and he’d throw them on Ontari’s sword to save his own ass.

Their so-called ‘friendship’ really only went so far. 

But still, he’d help them, so she’d at least _try_ to keep him off the chopping block.

It was the middle of the night when a soft knock finally sounded on the door. She exchanged a glance with Roan and he stood, walking quietly over to it, just in case it was not who they were expecting. With the final moments of their plan in full swing, danger was everywhere.

He approached it cautiously, watching her with a finger to his lips. She stood quietly and snatched a knife off the table next to her, eyeing Roan’s sword in the corner in case she needed it. 

She really needed to get a bow and arrow set of her own. 

As Roan put his hand on the doorknob, they heard someone whisper-yell from the other side, “Password is ‘open this fucking door before I freeze my ass off’,” in the most sarcastic, perfectly impatient Murphy voice she’d ever heard.

Clarke and Roan both relaxed, the latter rolling his eyes as he swung the door open.

“Murphy, always... irritating to see you,” Roan greeted.

“Feeling’s mutual _hainofi_.”

“You know you just called me ‘princess’, Murphy. Trig is your first language, how did you not know that?” Roan chided.

“I said what I said,” Murphy threw over his shoulder as he finally stepped into the house, rubbing his hands together and striding over to Clarke. “I can’t call this one Princess, so I figured you were the next best target,” he added for good measure, pointing to Clarke with his thumb.

Roan groaned, exasperated, and was about to close the door when another figure entered, one that Clarke gasped at. She’d seen him earlier, but they hadn’t had a chance to really greet one another without Ontari watching their every move. She sprinted across the room and practically leapt into Miller’s arms.

“Hey there, Griffin, long time no see,” he said when he set her down. It wasn’t like they were extremely close, but he was her friend, her family all the same.

“Miller, I’m… ” she started, tears starting to spring to her eyes. “I’m so happy to see you. And you look good, are you good?” He smiled and nodded and then she added because she really felt like she needed to, “I’m so sorry. I should’ve gotten you out of that shithole a long time ago. You and Jasper.”

He shook his head. “Clarke, it’s fine. We’re both okay. And we can talk about all that later. Apparently you are wanted for two different weddings. Become quite the popular one down here on the ground, haven’t you? You look really beautiful, by the way. Any other suitors I should know about?” he teased.

She shook her head. “Nope. There’s only one wedding I want to be at. Speaking of, where _is_ Bellamy?” she asked, looking around Miller out the door, where the only sound was the wind howling.

“Waiting with Titus for us. We need to get a move on. The fire is only going to distract them for so long,” Murphy told her, pushing at her back so they could get out the door. 

“Fire? What fire?”

Murphy pursed his lips.

“Murphy, _what fire_?”

“I may or may not have set an abandoned cabin on fire to cause a distraction.” Clarke gave him a look. “Oh stop. No one is getting hurt and there was no other way to sneak you out of here. You’re being watched pretty closely.”

“Which is why I’m staying here,” Roan added.

“Are you sure you aren’t just staying because you don’t want to be associated with this?” Clarke asked.

“That too.”

“Whatever. Okay, let’s go.” She grabbed a jacket and the three of them started out the door, Clarke trailing just behind, Miller in the lead with his gun at his side, checking around to make sure the coast was clear, and Murphy in the middle with a knife of his own. As they passed Roan, she added, “Thanks. For everything.”

He nodded, “Just don’t get caught, _Princess_.”

She shoved at him and then left after Murphy.

\------------------------

They walked for a good half hour, but it didn’t feel like they’d gotten very far because they had to use the buildings’ shadows as cover, slipping around and behind various structures. They’d been holed up for at least 5 minutes when two men stumbled out of a cabin drunk off their asses, singing obnoxiously loudly until a neighbor came out to shoo them off.

“Holy shit how did you survive up here for three weeks? It’s fucking freezing,” Murphy whispered to her as they hurried the last stretch to a building on the outskirts of Polis.

“Well for starters, I wore more than this - ” she picked at his lightweight jacket and he rolled his eyes.

“Okay you two, we’re clear. That - ” Miller pointed ahead of them to a tiny little cabin that looked like it had seen better days. “ - is where we’re headed.”

They approached carefully, listening to see if they could hear anything off. Miller held out a hand to them and put his gun away so he could open the door. 

“Where did you get a gun, Miller?” It wasn’t really important, but she couldn’t help but ask anyway.

“Swiped it as Jas and I were leaving. You’d be surprised how low of security Finn kept at that camp. Wasn’t hard to grab one as we were walking out. Even the Azgeda idiot that was running things after Finn didn’t come back didn’t notice.”

“You could have been a thief in another life with skills like that,” Murphy praised. Miller just gave him a cocky smile and pushed the door open and looked inside.

Bellamy appeared in the doorway with a knife in his hand, putting it down when he saw who was there, his eyes locking instantly on Clarke, tracking her as they all walked inside. The second she was in, he grabbed her hand and pulled her into him. His other hand came up to her neck and he dipped down, giving her a chaste kiss on the lips.

They pulled back, smiling giddily despite the very real danger they were all in and she vaguely heard in the distance something that sounded like Murphy gagging. Bellamy tore his eyes away to give him a glare as she shrugged out of her jacket, tossing it aside. When he turned his gaze back to her, taking his time appraising her change in attire, he leaned down to whisper to her, “As much as I liked the other dress, I _much_ prefer this one.”

The cold didn’t seem to bother Clarke quite as much anymore. 

“Okay, let’s get this done before we get caught, what do we say?” Titus said from the back of the room. They nodded and quickly stepped over to him. “Now we don’t have time to do the whole thing, so I will just do what is required to bind the two of you together officially, hmm?”

They both nodded, but she saw Bellamy’s eyes flutter a little and swallow hard, almost like he was disappointed. She made a mental note that when they were finally out of this, to put together a celebration they could take their time at. 

Titus said some things in Trig that she barely understood. She could understand most of the language now, but she’d never really witnessed anything like this before so some of the phrases were hard to understand. Bellamy was listening intently though, so if whatever Titus was saying was good enough for him, it was good enough for her. 

“Now, repeat after me. _Oso tai choda op kom uf._ ”

_We bind ourselves in strength_. This part she understood.

“Oso tai choda op kom uf,” they repeated.

“ _Oso tai choda op kom jova_.”

“Oso tai choda op kom jova.”

“ _Oso tai choda op kom hodnes_.”

“Oso tai choda op kom hodnes.”

We bind ourselves in strength. We bind ourselves in courage. We bind ourselves in love. 

It was beautiful. And as she looked up in Bellamy’s eyes, she’d never meant any words more than those. This was the right decision. 

Titus’s voice sounded again drawing her attention from the man seconds away from being her husband. “As reigning flamekeeper, I speak on behalf of all Commanders as I now pronounce you two husband and wife. May your lives be long and full of love.”

She swung her gaze back to Bellamy who was wearing a grin that was a mirror of her own, his brown eyes bright and sparkling. She couldn’t even feel the cold anymore as his warmth filled the room and wrapped around her limbs, her heart, through her hair and in her veins. 

“Kiss her! Kiss her!” Murphy chanted and Bellamy flashed an amused smile over to his friend before he stepped forward, wrapping an arm around her waist, his hand splayed on her back and his grin met hers as he dipped her backwards, kissing her. It wasn’t intense or overly passionate, but it was different from all the others, so much soul infused in every point of contact of their lips and bodies, profound in a way that she didn’t know was possible

He pulled back just enough to whisper and look in her eyes and she could still feel the ghost of his lips as he did, imprinted on hers forever. However Ontari was going to react to this, she'd never be able to take this moment from them. 

“Whatever happens, we go through it together.”

She nodded, her hands coming up to cup his cheeks.

“Together,” she promised, closing her eyes and leaning her forehead on his.

\------------------------

It was now the early hours of the morning, the sun not quite peeking up over the horizon yet, but the sky no longer pitch black by the time they stepped outside.

After they finished the ceremony and Murphy had made the jokes that Clarke was sure he’d been developing since he’d first found out what the plan entailed, and Miller had shaken hands with Bellamy and given her a hug that he said was supposed to be from Monty and Jasper as well, _and_ she’d kissed Bellamy a few more dozen times, they were finally ready to make the trek back to Roan’s house, so that they’d be back before sunrise. 

They hadn’t stopped touching in one way or another since being married, either by holding hands or arms around each other, but Bellamy needed to get Titus back before anyone noticed he was missing. 

“Go, I’ll be waiting for you,” she bid the two of them goodbye and he took her heart with him as he disappeared into the shadows.

“Come on. I don’t exactly want to get caught either,” Murphy muttered, and Miller nodded in agreement. 

“There will be more people wandering around now that we’re only a couple hours from sunrise and they’ll have gotten our ‘distraction’ put out,” Miller commented. It made her nervous, now that they were so close to the completion of their scheme and really all that was left was to tell Ontari. 

They made sure that the small cabin they were in looked like they’d never been there, and they left without another word. It wasn’t completely crucial that they not get caught, the odds being they’d take her to Ontari anyway. But it would not be pleasant and her and Bellamy were supposed to confront her together. Plus, he had the letter from Luna.

Roan opened the door on guard again, knife out, and visibly relaxed when he saw the three of them. “About time. Guards will be here any time to separate us before the ceremony.”

She nodded and guided Miller and Murphy into her room. They weren’t going to come up to the throne room with her, Bellamy, and Roan. They were going to hang back in case something happened and they needed to send for reinforcements. 

Reinforcements that probably wouldn't come anyway, considering everything except the actual marriage was a bluff. At the very least, they’d be able to figure some kind of diversion to help them escape. 

She really hoped it wouldn’t get that far. 

Everything would go the way it was supposed to. It had to. She wouldn’t be able to forgive herself if all of this ended up hurting her family in any way.

Roan leaned against the doorway. “So how’d it go?”

“Well let’s just say that no matter how Ontari reacts, you definitely won’t be marrying me today.”

“Good. Congratulations.”

“Thanks.”

Roan just snorted humorously and left to stand watch. Clarke paced around the room, counting every second until Bellamy came to be with her for when the guards showed up. 

“Stop pacing, you’re making me nervous,” Murphy slurred, laid down on her bed with his eyes closed.

“Oh, I’m sorry, _you’re_ nervous?” she shot back, intending it to sound sarcastic, but it came out drier and more anxious than she wanted. “Sorry,” she mumbled to him, and he responded with a small, understanding smile.

She continued her pacing and Miller walked over to put a hand on her shoulder. “Look, I don’t know much about Sonchahou or Bellamy even, but I do know how much he loves you. He will be here any minute.”

“Right. Of course,” she agreed, though she wasn’t sure she even believed herself, let alone him. 

Ten minutes went by and her anxiety only grew with every second he didn’t walk through that door. 

Something was off, he should’ve been back by now. 

Her bedroom door opened and she was about to breathe a sigh of relief when she was stopped mid-breath at the sight of Roan. 

And Roan only.

“Is he here?”

Roan shook his head, looking a little nervous himself. “How much of a headstart did he have on you guys?”

“20 minutes at least. We had to put the cabin back in order and it takes longer to get back here than it would’ve taken for Bell to get to Titus’s quarters,” Murphy said, sitting up with a tense look on his face as he locked eyes with Clarke. 

“That’s it, he should be here by now. We have to go after him,” she said, trying to push at Roan so she could get around him. She was still in her dress, though she’d kicked off her heels already, too distracted before to realize she should’ve changed by now. If there was a fight...

“Clarke, no. You can’t leave. Whatever happened to him has already happened and you can’t… you can’t just go shooting after him. It’ll make it worse,” Roan told her, standing his ground. 

“Fuck that. My husband is in trouble and I’m not going to just sit around. Now get out of my way, Roan,” she practically growled.

“No.”

“Clarke,” she heard Murphy get up and walked towards her, but she didn’t take her eyes off of Roan. “I can’t believe I’m about to say this, but Roan’s right. We have to stick with the plan. He might have just gotten stuck somewhere like we did last night. If you go tearing into that tower, that could upend the whole thing.”

The things Murphy was saying made sense, her head told her to wait it out, to not go storming after him, but she was scared, the pit in her stomach growing with each passing minute. 

“5 minutes. If he isn’t back in 5 minutes, one of us is going after him,” she insisted, making sure her tone left no room for argument. 

Five minutes came and went and she was getting ready to use whatever means necessary to get past Roan, when she heard something on the other side of the front door. 

“Finally,” she breathed, weaving around Roan and heading for the door.

“Clarke, wait!” she heard Murphy shout after her and she had turned her head for just a moment when the door was kicked in, sending her flying into the nearest wall.

“What the hell?!” Roan roared, storming around the corner. 

Clarke was seeing spots - the wind had gotten knocked out of her, but she was otherwise unharmed so she shook her head to clear it and figure out why Bellamy had just beat the door in. 

“SKAIGADA! Under orders of Heda Ontari, you are to come with us,” the man who was definitely _not_ Bellamy bellowed at her. The other three had caught up to the commotion now and were all standing posed for a fight. Murphy and Roan each had knives out and Miller had his gun up.

Unfortunately, the man was not alone. He seemed to have brought five of his closest friends to the party.

“I’m not going anywhere with you,” she said out of gritted teeth. “Now _get out_.”

“This is my house, Tybe, and you don’t get to just barge in,” Roan said in her defense. She tried to discreetly unsheath the knife from her boots, which were lying on the floor next to the wall she’d been thrown into.

“Heda Ontari says otherwise.”

“The ceremony isn’t for hours, still. This is not tradition, to drag an Azgeda bride through the streets like this,” he tried again, still trying to feign ignorance.

“There is no longer any ceremony, Roan, I’m sure you’re aware of that. And she may be a bride, but she is no Azgeda bride, isn’t that right - ” he sneered, before turning to face Clarke. “ - _bigwada trompa_.” He spit at Clarke and her eyes went wide at the insult. 

Murphy lunged at the man from behind her, eyes murderous. Miller had to hold him back, accidentally dropping his gun in the process. “ _You did not just call her a tramp_!” he roared at the man, who just laughed.

But the man, Tybe, didn’t just call her a _tramp_ , he’d called her an _ocean_ tramp.

Fuck.

_Fuck._

Her breathing deepened as her mind finally caught up with what that meant.

He knew.

And not just _him_. He said he was on orders from Ontari, which meant she knew too.

Which meant Bellamy had gotten caught.

“Where the fuck is he?” she asked, deathly quiet, but voice full of rage. 

Tybe swung his gaze around to her. “Your husband? Would you like to see him? I can take you there now.” 

Her heart pounded with every syllable. She nodded once and pulled her boots on, cursing the fact that she still hadn’t changed out of her dress, and stepped forward. 

“In fact, Heda has requested the presence of you as well, Prince, and your two Floukru house guests,” he spit venomously, as the others he was with stepped forward to seize her, Roan, Murphy, and Miller. Roan looked like he was ready to kill everything and everyone. “We don’t have to strong arm _you_ , do we Roan?”

“You better keep your fucking hands off of me.”

“Fine, but the Floukru traitors are ours. Including you, _Princess_.” They all stepped forward and wrenched her, Murphy, and Miller’s arms behind their backs. They all tried to fight them off; she even tried to elbow one and step on his instep to get them to loosen their grip, but the man holding her just sneered and held tighter. 

McCreary flashed through her mind and she froze, just long enough for the man holding her to secure his grip further. She was having trouble seeing straight, the world seemed like it had tipped over on its side.

“Stop struggling, Clarke, they’d love any excuse to abuse you,” Roan muttered under his breath, walking next to her as they shoved her forward. 

“That’s not really my style,” she managed to utter out trying to twist her arms again and Roan chuckled dryly. The man holding her twisted her back and she let out an involuntary cry of pain. 

She tried to focus on only a few hours ago, the way Bellamy had held her, safe and secure, kissed her with a love second to none, looked at her like she gave his life purpose. She tried to hold onto that as she was forced through the streets of Polis, other members of Azgeda spitting in her direction, either because they knew what was happening or could gather enough. 

She wouldn’t let herself think of what state Bellamy would be in when she got there, and was terrified that they didn’t have the chance to stand their ground together and what that would mean to them all making it out of this unharmed, or at the very least alive. 

She swung an apologetic look at Miller, who looked like he was struggling with some internal demons himself; it hadn’t been that long since he’d been freed. Murphy was seething next to her.

They all somehow managed to squeeze onto the lift, pressed up against one another so tightly that she could hardly breathe. Her heart was pounding and her breathing heavy as she waited to reach the throne room. 

The doors opened and Clarke was pushed out, tripping over someone’s foot and almost fell to the floor if it weren’t for the arms of her guard wretching her back to her feet. 

“You okay?” Murphy asked as he was pushed next to her.

“I have to be,” she answered him. When they finally entered the throne room, Clarke strained her neck trying to see through the crowd of people that had been assembled. “Let me through! Where is he?!” she demanded, struggling and twisting as hard as she could now, ignoring the pain it caused her joints. 

She heard a groan from up front and her heart sank. He was here, and there was so much pain in that little noise that she was struggling to keep her emotions in check. She was finally pushed to the front and the man holding her let go with one last shove, so that she lost her footing, and she sprawled out in the middle of the little half circle of space that the crowd was gathered around. Her gaze first landed on Ontari, whose expression held that same feline smile she’d had on the first time they’d met but Clarke couldn't care less about her in that moment. 

Her focus was on _him_.

Her _husband_. On his knees, eyes heavily lidded, shoulders hunched over, arms tied behind him with an Azgeda warrior holding a spear to his back. She could see one bruise was already forming on his jaw and one on his cheekbone when he swung his head in her direction.

He hadn’t come easy.

Not that she’d expect him to.

She scrambled up, her heart moving faster than her feet and knelt in front of him, sending a glare to the man holding the spear. 

“Bell - fuck - Bellamy! Hey, hey, it’s okay, I’m here.” she cried out, putting her hands on either side of his head. He was breathing heavy but he gave her a small smile anyway.

“Hey, Princess.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Woo boy! 
> 
> But hey - THEY'RE MARRIED!
> 
> Thanks to all of you! 
> 
> See you Thursday ❤
> 
> If you want to check out the awesome moodboard that grounderkingbellamy made for this fic, check it out [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488) on my tumblr!


	21. Chapter 21

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Okay. Here we are. Confrontation with Ontari. 
> 
> Ooo boy.
> 
> I want to attach a warning to this chapter after the jump, so click to end notes if you feel like you need to read them. It's not terribly spoilery, I tried to keep it kind of vague, but still. I felt like I needed to just in case. 
> 
> Thank you for all your guys' continued support and awesome words of encouragment! ❤

“Get that the fuck away from him!” Clarke snarled at the man holding the spear.

He laughed.

“Hey, it’s okay. I’m okay. This is the worst of it, really. Are _you_ hurt?” Bellamy asked, eyes scanning her body for injuries.

She shook her head. “Other than that asshole being a little too rough bringing us over, I’m fine.”

“Murphy, Miller?”

“They’re fine. Around here some - ” she glanced around, and caught them watching her and Bellamy from the edge of the crowd, arms still bound behind them, both had hard expressions on their faces. “ - there.” She nodded their direction and Bellamy followed her gaze around until he caught sight of them. 

“Well, now that you’ve had your reunion…” Ontari spoke up. “Seiku, remand the _natrona_.”

“Don’t fucking _touch_ her!” Bellamy shouted at the man, Seiku, who was stepping forward to wrench Clarke away from Bellamy. He placed her a few feet away from Bellamy and kicked out her knees. She fell to the ground with a grunt at the same time as a slap sounded in her ears. She looked over at Bellamy whose head was tilted sideways and a red mark on his cheek from the force of another warrior. She heard Murphy and Miller struggling behind them, snarling at their own restrainers. 

Bellamy lifted his head back up and his expression was terrifying. She’d never seen that look in his eyes before, the rage. He looked like he would let loose a rain of fire on the whole lot of them if he could.

Ontari sighed like she was bored and finally got up and walked over to her. Clarke squared her shoulders to the Commander and bit her lip to keep from shouting obscenities at her. Her hands hadn’t been bound yet and her fingers flexed with the urge to reach for the woman. A side glance behind her told her she now had her own spear pointed at her spine though. 

“I gave you the _honor_ of being my _sister_ and you threw it away for this _branwoda_. What am I going to do now?” she mused. And Clarke knew that she wasn’t actually asking for a response, but she was going to give it to her anyway, not able to hold her tongue any longer. 

“Nothing,” Clarke answered and Ontari’s eyes snapped to her, betraying the easy confidence she’d just had. “You’re going to do nothing. That is, if you want to keep your reign on the coalition.”

“How _dare_ you presume to tell _me_ what to do!” she screeched, raising her own hand and connecting hard with Clarke’s cheek. Her head snapped to the side and even though it stung and she could taste blood from the split in her lip one of Ontari’s rings had caused, she refused to let Ontari see her wince. She just turned her face forward again, clenching her jaw. Bellamy struggled and snarled next to her and Murphy and Miller behind her. 

“Keep your hands off her!”

Ontari cocked her head towards Bellamy and started stalking over to him. 

_No, no, nononono._

Ontari leaned over so her face was close to his and grabbed his chin, but Clarke could see the defiance in his eyes even through the spots still in her vision from Ontari’s slap. 

“It really is a pity that it wouldn’t have been advantageous for _us_ to wed,” she commented. “We could have had a lot of fun.” She leered at him and he wretched his head out of her grasp, spitting to the side. 

“Reach inside my jacket pocket.” 

“Thought you were a married man now?” she asked, eyebrow raised and Clarke felt sick. But she reached in anyway and pulled out Luna’s scroll, a little rumpled, but intact. “What the fuck is this?” she demanded.

“A message from Luna.”

“Yes, I have eyes, I can see the seal, Blake. I meant, what the fuck is _in_ it?” she asked, a flash of fear flicking across her carefully constructed mask for just a second before it disappeared.

“You really should say what you mean,” Clarke told her and Ontari strode back over to Clarke again. 

_Good_. She was less injured than Bellamy; let Ontari take her rage out on Clarke for a while. It hadn’t escape her notice that when Bellamy spit, there was blood in it. She could take it.

Clarke ignored Bellamy’s eyes shooting daggers at her for turning Ontari’s attention on herself. 

“Open it. It’s the reason _why_ you’re going to do nothing,” Clarke explained. 

Ontari broke open the seal roughly and went to sit back down, her eyes scanning the document. Clarke watched her carefully and saw the exact moment she’d realized she’d been backed into a corner. 

This was it. Would she do what she could to hold on to her reign without a war and let them go? Or would she try to burn the entire world down to exact her revenge and call their bluff?

“Everyone except the traitors, their guards, and Roan. _Ban au_!” she commanded their leave. And they obeyed immediately, leaving the room with shouts of anger. “Brother. Come forth.”

Roan stepped into the half circle, his face completely impassive. 

“It seems Luna has threatened our way of life, of Azgeda’s rule over the coalition. She claims that if I do not release her people back to Sonchahou without retaliation, that she will use her natblida influence over Floukru loyal clans to challenge me for the Flame. What say you? _Please tell me you were not involved in this treachery, or I will see that you receive the same punishment as these trash,_ ” she added in Trig.

Roan looked over at her and Bellamy. “I had nothing to do with this. I was just as surprised as you were.”

Ontari narrowed her eyes at Roan, apprising whether or not he was telling the truth. He gave her nothing. 

Ontari dropped her voice so Clarke had to strain to hear her. “ _If you are lying to me brother, I will banish and dishonor you in front of all of Azgeda._ ”

“Stop threatening me, Ontari,” Roan spat. “What are you going to do?” he demanded. “How are you going to keep Azgeda in charge of the coalition?” It was a smart way of phrasing it; it showed that he was in favor of taking the bluff, but in a way that made it look like he was on her side. 

Which, to an extent, he was. He wanted Azgeda to remain the ruling power, but he needed Ontari to see reason.

Ontari didn’t answer, she just stalked over to the balcony overlooking Polis while they waited with baited breath. Clarke could feel the adrenaline that was keeping her up and alert start leaching from her body and she started to slump a little. They’d been awake the entire night without rest and she could feel the weariness kicking in. 

As much as she didn’t want another death on her hands, she kind of wished she could just push Ontari right over the edge of the tower.

But that would probably result in all of their immediate deaths, so probably not the greatest of plans. 

Once this was all over though… she would deal with Ontari, one way or another.

She looked over to Bellamy to see him already looking at her, concern and guilt filling his face, despite the fact that he was clearly more injured than she was. She tried to tell him with her eyes that she was fine, that he didn’t need to feel guilty and something that she hoped conveyed hope. He’d always been good at reading her so she prayed he would understand. 

“Ontari.” Roan brought all their attention back to the front just as Ontari turned towards them. “I think… that Luna abhors violence. But for her people… she may actually follow through on her threats. And I’m not sure that is something we can afford to get into right now. Not with the rest of Skaikru on the way,” he finished and Clarke had never been more grateful that they’d brought him in on the plan than she was right then. 

“That is _Heda_ to you, brother,” She said quietly. “And… before I make a decision I need to consult the Flame, the past commanders, my advisors.”

Clarke had no idea what that meant, _how_ exactly she was going to consult past Commanders - people that were supposed to be long dead - but for now it seemed they at least weren’t about to be executed or their village burned to the ground. But it also didn’t exactly sound like they were going to be released either. 

Ontari turned to Titus then, “ _Go get the other guards._ ”

The exhaustion she’d begun to feel subsided for the moment as Clarke’s heart sped up and she looked over at Bellamy who looked like he shared her worry. She glanced back at Miller and Murphy who were also looking about with anticipation and concern. When she swung her gaze around to Roan, his impassive face faltered slightly and he shook his head like he didn’t know what was going on either. She bit her lip as Titus did as he was told, bringing in five guards from the hallway. 

Ontari held her chin up and they all held their breath. “Until I make a decision, remand the traitors to the dungeon,” she commanded. _Shit_. And then as Ontari slowly turned her eyes to Bellamy, it got impossibly worse as she added, “You are their leader, and as such, while I take the time to determine what to do about this unfortunate situation you’ve forced me into, I want you to know what happens when you try to control your Commander.” 

There was such hatred, such vitriol in her tone that Clarke felt like passing out. Whatever she was about to decree was going to be placed squarely on Bellamy’s shoulders. He seemed to realize it as well because his back straightened and his jaw lifted, defiance clear in his posture, ready to take on whatever discipline Ontari had in store for him.

“Flog him on the hour, every other hour until night falls, and until I decide what permanent action to take.”

“NO!” Clarke roared, stumbling to her feet and ignoring the sharp jab of the spear in her back. It probably pierced skin from how hard it was poking in near her spine, but she couldn’t care less about it. A hand landed on her shoulder and she snapped her head over to see it was Roan, trying to hold her back, his expression warning her back.

She couldn’t even look at Bellamy, or she knew she’d break.

“Do _not_ touch him!” she snarled at Ontari, shaking Roan off. She felt the jab of the spear a little deeper. 

“It’s okay, Clarke,” Bellamy said, soft and resigned. If this was what Ontari needed to feel in control, what she needed to do instead of taking it out on their people, their family, Clarke knew he’d accept it.

But Clarke was seeing red. “NO it’s not okay!”

Ontari just looked at her with that same fucking smile that Clarke wanted to punch right off her face. “I know you’re still new to the ground, but there are consequences to disobeying the Commander. Be careful with what you say next or I promise you that I will make the whip look like a gift.” 

Clarke’s eyes sprang with wet, hot tears that refused to be blinked away and the composure she had tried so hard to maintain was cracking. 

“Then…” she started, her voice breaking, and she felt desperate, crazed. She was playing right into Ontari’s hands, she knew that, but she couldn’t stop herself. She felt like she had no control over her body or emotions and all that was left was raw _need_ to get him out of this. “Then punish me instead.”

“NO!” Bellamy shouted.

“He came here for _me_ ,” she choked out. “He came here for me. This is my fault. All of this - ”

“Clarke, stop! You’re going to get yourself killed.” Bellamy said, voice firm. 

“ _I_ disobeyed you, _I_ tricked you. While you decide what to do about Luna’s letter, take your pound of flesh from me.”

“Clarke, no,” she heard Murphy growl behind her and she could practically _see_ the venom in his expression without even glancing back. Miller was shouting something too, but she couldn't focus on it to hear it.

“Don’t listen to her,” Bellamy spoke up even louder, struggling to his feet as well. She spun her head to her husband and saw his wince with the spear at his back, and he was leaning over, favoring his side with an injury she didn’t even know about, strengthening her resolve to take the scourging from him. 

Ontari’s head volleyed back and forth for a second before rising from her throne again. She walked over to Clarke who had clenched her jaw so hard her teeth hurt.

She saw Bellamy struggling to get to her, held in place by his restraints and that fucking spear. 

Ontari was a breath away from her face, and Clarke had the urge to spit on her. “You think _you_ should be the one punished? That because he came for you that it’s your fault? I don’t disagree.”

“NO!” Bellamy bellowed and struggled harder, held back now by an extra guard. 

_Good_. She deserved this. All of this was happening because of her.

“Do it,” she challenged Ontari, but that only made the Commander grin wider. 

“Oh you will be punished. When you have to watch the man you love scream in agony. You’ll be put in the cell next to him so you will hear every crack of the whip, every break of his skin, every whimper he makes. And you won’t be able to do a damn thing about it. Have a nice wedding night,” she mocked, turning from them to walk calmly back to her throne.

“No,” Clarke breathed, all the rage and fight leaving her body and being replaced by fear and dread as her brain tried to process through what was about to happen.

***

Bellamy kept his eyes on Clarke as they forced her to walk, a small amount of blood seeping through her dress in the back as they ushered her through the doors. He had a matching wound on his back from his struggles, but that was the least of his worries. She was eerily quiet and he was terrified of it. Not of what was going to happen to him; he could deal with that. But what watching him go through that would do to her.

He’d never been so horrified as when Clarke had begged Ontari to whip her instead. He was panicked at the thought that she might actually take Clarke up on her offer. And a part of him was even angry at Clarke for even suggesting that. 

But even in just those few moments when they weren’t sure if Ontari would oblige her or not, when his imagination ran wild about what that would be like, he knew he would have broken completely to not be able to anything but watch. He only hoped that it wouldn’t do the same for her. 

Bellamy knew this might happen, some sort of retribution, and he was willing to take it all on. If it meant Clarke and his people were safe, he could take it. In the end, if they were all safe, it’d be worth it. He knew Ontari wouldn’t kill him, so after all this was over, they’d make it home.

Murphy looked murderous and Miller was silently seething when he glanced behind him where they were pulling up the rear. Bellamy’s ribs hurt from where they’d kicked him after capturing him when he was returning Titus, so he favored his side a bit as they walked.

He remembered being forced to his knees waiting for them to bring his friends for what felt like years. They were supposed to confront Ontari together, united. And instead, it had gone completely upside down, giving Ontari the upper hand. He had hoped it was only momentary, that once she read the letter from Luna, they’d be let go and they could go home. 

They’d get to go home, back to the village, and actually celebrate being married. Say the vows he didn’t get to say in their short ceremony, in front of his family.

He was _married_ now. A husband to the most incredible woman he’d ever known. They’d get through this, together. 

_Together._

The only vow they’d had time to make during their wedding.

After they were forced down the hall, various Azgeda members tripping and sneering at them the whole way, they were shoved onto the elevator and taken down to the lowest level of the tower. He was familiar with this place; it was where he and O were held barely a month prior.

The guards tossed him in one cell and Clarke, Murphy, and Miller in the one next to him. Clarke hit the ground hard and winced a little, looking at her knees. They were scrapped, but not really bleeding. Their cells shared bars, so the two of them scrambled over to each other, gripping hands, forearms, whatever they could reach through the bars. 

“Hey, hey, Clarke, you’re hurt.” He reached up and gripped her face in his palms, soothing the dried tear tracks on her cheeks. She’d had more pain than anyone should ever have and it was about to get worse before it got better. “Turn around, let me see your back.”

She shook her head. “I’m fine. Just a little poke. I’m more worried about you. I saw you favoring your side.”

_Shit._ “It’s okay, just took a couple kicks to the ribs. No big deal.”

Murphy groaned. “Oh for the love of - neither of you are fine! This is a fucking shitty situation and we need to figure out how to get out of here. Clarke,” he addressed. “Just let him look at your back, he’s not going to stop worrying until he sees for himself. “

“There’s no way out of here, Murphy, not until she lets us out. I’ll be fine,” he tried to reassure him. 

“Just shut _up_ Blake. You are about to be - ” he said through gritted teeth, his voice cracking a little. Clarke squeezed her eyes shut. “This is not okay.”

“I know. But we _are_ going to make it out of this, I _will_ heal, and everything _will_ be okay.”

“How can you still have so much hope?” Clarke asked, voice small.

“You.” he said simply. “Because of you and our family and our people. I have to have hope. I refuse to believe this is it, that this is where we end.” She nodded and leaned her forehead against the bars. “But so help me if you offer to be tortured in my place again, I’ll...”

She let out a small chuckle and opened her eyes to look at him. “You’ll what? Of course I’d jump in front of you. Every time.”

He had a family, people who loved him and who would die for him and their village. But he was sure that no one had ever looked at him with the emotion Clarke Griffin did. The strength, the power, the love in her eyes gave him all the courage he needed.

Which was exactly what he called upon an hour later when they heard the door clang down the hallway and footsteps headed in their direction. His heart started pounding because as ready as he was for it, he still wasn’t exactly looking forward to it. 

“Murphy, Miller,” he said quietly, knowing they’d know what he was requesting. And they seemed to, as they both moved forward automatically, trying to pull Clarke back from the bars. He didn’t want her to be alone when this happened. He didn’t want any of them to watch it alone.

“NO! I’m not leaving this spot. Bellamy, I’m right here, okay? I’m right here, you’re going to be okay.”

He nodded, not bothering to turn around to face the guard. “You can’t watch this Clarke.”

“Bullshit. I’m not moving. Murphy, get off me.” 

“Clarke…” Murphy tried, but Bellamy could see her white knuckles as she gripped the bars. “I’m right here.”

“Me too, Griffin,” Miller piped in, coming up on her other side. He saw Murphy snake an arm around her waist, and Miller grip her shoulder.

He looked away. If she wasn’t going to leave, there was no way he was going to be able to watch her break in front of him. 

“Hands on the wall,” the guard instructed. He did as he was told and let Clarke’s cries for the guard to stop fade into the background so he could let his mind wander out of the cell and onto the beach, into the waves, with Clarke in his arms, giving him a smile brighter than the sun.

The first crack across his back had his vision going spotty and tears instantly sprang to his eyes. He gritted his teeth and tried to lock the pain away. By the third lash, the stinging dulled and he hardly felt the fifth and final one. The guard tossed a bottle somewhere to his right and left without a word and Bellamy sank to his knees at the wall, leaning over to touch his forehead to it.

“B - Bell?” he heard Clarke’s voice come screaming back into focus and he tilted his head to look over at her. At some point all three of them had sunk to the floor too. She was focused on him, tears streaming down her face, but she was making no noise that would indicate she was crying. One of her hands had left the bars and was clinging onto one of Murphy’s with an iron grip and she had her head tipped onto Miller’s shoulder. At their eye contact though, she started breathing faster and scrambled to her feet, shaking both of the boys off. 

He sighed and took a deep breath, getting to his feet and trying to ignore the stinging sensation of his back as he moved closer to her. 

She was straining an arm through the bars, fingers outstretched as far as they would go. When he was close enough, she gripped him hard, fingers twining together and she helped pull him the rest of the way. 

“Hey, hey, you did so good, I’m right here, I’ve got you,” she told him, echoing the sentiment that he always said to her. The idea that he was back with her, touching her skin, feeling her love, brought him back from the abyss. When he was close enough for her to reach her other hand through and stroke his cheek, she did so, and he closed his eyes and leaned into it, letting himself be comforted.

“Murphy, can you reach that?” he heard her ask softly after a while. 

“Yeah, I think so,” Murphy replied and Bellamy finally opened his eyes to see what Murphy was trying for. When he remembered the bottle the guard had tossed at him as he was leaving, he turned, wincing, trying to go for it so Murphy didn’t have to strain.

“Stop, he’s got it,” Miller told him from Clarke’s other side. His voice was shaky and a little emotional, which surprised Bellamy a little. He seemed like a caring guy, but they’d only known each other a few weeks.

“Hey, Bell, can you lay down on your stomach for me?”

“Don’t worry about it, Clarke, I can do it myself, it isn’t even that bad,” he tried, but her look sharpened and he stopped talking and did as he was told. But before he laid down completely, a jacket came into his view, Miller holding it out to him to lay on instead of the freezing floor.

“Here,” Murphy said, probably handing Clarke the bottle.

“Miller, can you help me with his shirt? I don’t want the dirt and fibers getting into the wounds,” she instructed and he smiled a little to himself. His wife was a leader, and a damn good one. A healer, someone who could think clearly in the midst of danger, of difficulties. 

_His wife._

That definitely made all this pain worth it. 

He felt Miller cut his shirt at his side carefully with his knife and then Clarke was down at his face filling his view.

“I’m going to clean you off a little okay? It’ll probably sting. But it doesn’t look too bad, thankfully. Then you can drink the rest of it.”

He nodded, reaching his hand through the bars to hold onto her knee. He knew her hands would be busy, but he needed to feel her.

The water was more refreshing than biting, thankfully. It was cold, as was the chilly air and the concrete floor, even through the jacket, but it gave him something to focus on rather than the burning of the wound. He tried to insist that she use some of the water on the wound on her back but she refused, using half the bottle to clean him off and she made him drink the other half. When it was over, she laid down on her back next to him still on his stomach and shifted the hand that was holding on to her knee to her hand. 

“You two going to cuddle in the corner?” he lifted his head a little, smirking at Murphy and Miller who were settling against the wall when it was done. Clarke snickered a little. 

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Sorry, Miller, I’m taken.”

Clarke's head snapped over to Murphy. “What?!” she exclaimed. 

Bellamy let out a little rumble. “Well, kind of. I’m not sure Raven would say the same.”

Murphy narrowed his eyes at him. “Hey, she will come around… at some point. I am nothing if not determined.” Miller just laughed and shook his head.

“Raven? I mean, I get it, but oh man, Murphy, really?”

“I’m sorry, have you _seen_ her? Or realized how amazing she is? Or fucking brilliant? And she’s got enough wit to match me.”

“Wow, a feat in and of itself. Wasn’t sure anyone would possess enough snark to rival your’s,” Clarke teased, clearly amused and Bellamy squeezed her hand a little. She scooted a little closer and he tried to breathe her in.

“Shut up. I’m going to get some shut eye before the guard comes back,” Murphy said, settling against the wall.

“You should rest too,” Bellamy told her. 

“I will if you will,” she challenged. 

He huffed a little and closed his eyes, even though the adrenaline was still coursing through his veins from the whipping and he wasn’t sure he would actually fall asleep, despite how incredibly exhausted he knew his body was. He could see the circles under Clarke’s red rimmed eyes and knew that she wouldn't allow herself any rest if it didn’t at least _look_ like he was trying to sleep. 

Sure enough, about a half hour passed and her grip on his hand finally slacked and he could hear her even breathing, so he cracked his eyes open to see her fast asleep. He was grateful for any small amount of sleep she’d get; the guard would be back in about an hour.

He noticed Miller still awake and watching them out of the corner of his eye. He lifted his head a little, and looked at the man.

“Hey, thanks for the jacket,” he said softly. Miller tipped his head at him before looking away. He finally turned his head back after a couple minutes.

“You’re a good man,” he told Bellamy quietly, both of them trying not to wake Murphy or Clarke. 

“I don’t know about that. I should’ve been able to think of something that kept her from leaving in the first place…” he trailed off, wishing he would’ve thought to marry her weeks ago. Now he was forced to watch her watch him go through this. She deserved more than to spend the beginning of their marriage in a cell. And he wouldn’t have minded avoiding the lashes on his back.

“She’s tougher, tougher than she gives herself credit for. She’ll be okay,” Miller responded.

“I know.”

“You keep her grounded, centered. You should’ve seen her watching you. She was so still, determined to keep her eyes on you the whole time, like she’d be able to block those lashes with just her look. Like it was the two of you against the world. Also, like she might tear that guy’s head off if he got close enough,” he chuckled to himself. “She’s lucky to have you.”

“You got that backwards,” he disagreed, letting his gaze fall back to the woman sleeping next to him. 

“I just mean… I never liked Finn, there was always something off about him, not all there. I should have seen it coming, what he was going to do with her,” he said, nodding towards Clarke. “She should hate me.”

“She doesn’t blame you, Miller. She doesn’t blame anyone but Finn… and sometimes herself.”

“Always putting other people first,” Miller observed and all Bellamy could really do was hum. His eyes started drooping without permission, his body finally succumbing to the exhaustion. “You should sleep, I don’t know what she’ll do if she finds out you tricked her into falling asleep without you,” he told Bellamy, smirking. 

“I like you Miller,” he decided as he finally drifted off.

***

A loud clang woke Clarke from her sleep; she hadn’t even remembered dozing off. But she was only confused for a moment before registering Bellamy’s figure, his hands and body already on the wall. Her heart wanted to tell her it was impossible, that he was still lying next to her, hand in hers, a breath away.

But her mind snapped herself back to reality - that this was happening _again_. 

She was sure the first time he’d been whipped two hours ago would’ve killed her. She was genuinely surprised to find herself still alive after that. It was paralyzing, that she couldn’t get to him, that she couldn’t be there for him. She’d meant it when she said she’d jump in front of him every time. 

“Please,” she pleaded with the guard who paid her no attention. “His back is still raw from last time, just give him more time, _please stop_.” She banged her hands on the bars. But still, nothing. “I’ll do anything, just please don’t hurt him,” she said desperately.

Murphy came up next to her. They were brothers, she knew it wasn’t easy for him to watch either; her dress still had a wet spot from his own tears earlier. His arm went around her shoulders and she leaned into it, her knees already feeling shaky as the guard got the whip out. 

The first time, she’d maintained her composure and she’d sent as much of her strength as she could towards him, trying to speed up time so it’d be over as soon as possible. She held onto Miller’s hand and let Murphy hold her from the other side as it started, tears automatically streaming down her face in messy sobs.

Clarke flinched every time another lash ran across his back, and she could see his muscles run taut. 

It took more time than it had last time for him to look at her after, and she scooted her way towards the wall of her own cell so she could see his face where it was slumped against the wall. “C’mere, Bellamy, come here.”

He was slow, making his way to her at a snail’s pace and she was sure he was tired, no way had he’d gotten enough rest before. She’d have to be faster getting him cleaned up this time. It was freezing in the concrete cell, in the dead of winter, but the cool air was good for his wounds; it would help to dull the pain some and keep the inflamed raw flesh from getting worse. She’d have to get a salve on it as soon as possible if they were going to avoid infection. 

She sat instead of laid next to him that time after she was finished, her head falling on the bars uncomfortably until Miller sat down on her other side and patted his shoulder and Clarke switched, sighing gratefully. He was a good friend. Bellamy fell asleep quickly, his hand in hers like always, both of them pressed up against the bars as close they could be to the other. Murphy took to pacing the cell, back and forth, around and around, until the guard arrived for the third time. 

She felt a little bit of her sink down further every time after that as well, but she tried to stay strong for him. He was doing this for her and it killed her that she couldn’t take this burden off of him. 

Murphy got angrier and angrier every time, demanding Ontari hurry up and make a decision by the time evening rolled around the guard had come in for his final time for the day. He was screaming every curse Clarke had ever heard and even some she hadn’t.

Bellamy was getting quieter and quieter, all the energy he had from earlier leaching out of him. She tried her hardest to reassure him, but her face was red from crying, not that she had any actual tears left. Those had long since run dry. 

She ignored the pit of hunger in her stomach; any food would just come back up anyway.

Once the guard was done for the last time, she almost broke down in relief. Bellamy would at least get a break for an extended period of time. The criss cross marks on his back were red and very sensitive, so she made sure to take extra care of cleaning them. He wasn’t even flinching with the pain anymore, and she hoped that his mind was blocking it out for him. 

He was barely talking, but awake. She laid down, snuggled up to the bars, one hand in his and one hand in his sweaty hair, trying to soothe it back. “Hey, you can rest now, okay? They’re done for the night,” she brought their joined hands up to her lips, kissing each of his knuckles gently. “I love you so much, _so much_ , Bellamy Blake, my husband. We’ll get through this, okay?”

He nodded, just barely, and cracked his eyes open. He spoke so quietly that she pressed herself even closer to be able to hear him. “I love you too, Princess. Clarke, if I don’t wake up or make it through this…”

“No, you will,” she said sternly, voice breaking. “You’ve always told me to have hope, so now I’m telling you. You will survive this. We will get to go home, and spend as long as we want in the ocean, in the waves, and I am kissing you until you can’t breathe. There is no other option, okay?”

He let out a dry chuckle. “Like I’d want any other option.”

“Well, good. It’s settled then. Sleep. Your body needs the rest.”

“I’ll need my energy for all that kissing… and other stuff,” he added cheekily.

She let out a small laugh. “Yeah, exactly. Do what married people do. Like you’ve never dreamed of,” she added, a little teasing in her tone.

His eyes got wide for a second, like he couldn’t quite believe what she’d said. “Well if that’s not incentive to hang in there...” he said, closing his eyes finally. “And you’re what I dream of anyway.”

“Oh, so no nightmares then,” she joked.

“Well, sometimes you’re yelling at me for something stupid I did.”

She laughed again. “Well, then don’t do anything stupid.”

“I’ll try my best, you know me.”

“Yeah, I do. And I love everything about you.”

“Mmm that’s nice.”

“Sleep now, Bell. I’ll be right here when you wake up.”

He didn’t say anything else, just hummed a little and drifted off. His breathing was even and his pulse strong, so she was confident that the torture hadn’t done any significant damage beside mangling the skin on his back, but she was still worried about infection, since they had no idea how long they’d be in there.

She overheard Murphy and Miller discussing watch shifts, and they waved her off when she insisted she take a shift too. Eventually she ran out of arguments and finally let herself drift off, her face cuddled up to her and Bellamy’s joined hands, letting his warmth and familiarity bleed into her mind and heart.

***

Bellamy woke to the sound of the door clanging open and shut down the hallway, _again_.

He was getting really sick of that being his wake up call.

He’d much rather wake up in his own bed, curled around Clarke, kissing her neck and shoulder and pulling those little noises she makes when he does that out of her. It’d been so long since he’d heard them. 

Once they got out of this hellscape he’d kiss her over and over and she’d joked the night before about kissing _him_ breathless, but he was aiming to kiss her until she didn’t even know what day it was.

They made a good pair.

He barely registered anything anymore, feeling more like he was on auto-pilot. He started dragging himself away from her, despite her hand having an iron grip on his, trying not to let him move towards the pool of blood that was still there from the day before. 

He was floating, dull from all the pain and exhaustion. Despite having an almost uninterrupted night of sleep, his limbs felt heavy and numb, like they weren’t moving the way they were supposed to. But his mind was still sharp, and when he heard someone speak up, his head snapped over to the man, to make sure he wasn’t hallucinating. 

Roan stood on the other side of their cells, arms folded as per usual, a scowl on his face, also as per usual. 

Clarke stood up quickly, moving much faster since she was more in control of her body than he was - his felt sluggish and harder to move so it took him much longer to get in the same position. 

“Roan! Does this mean she’s made a decision?” Clarke asked quickly.

He pursed his lips a little before answering with a deep breath. “Yeah, and I think it’s swinging our way. If the room full of broken antiques are anything to go by,” he told them, clearly irritated. “She spent most of yesterday breaking things and sparring with any unfortunate warrior she could get her hands on. She’s pissed at me, she doesn’t believe I didn’t help you in _some_ way, but she’s got no proof, so I’m off the hook for now. Titus has been remanded to the Holy Place for the time being. She can’t hurt or kill him, but it’s better that he stay out of the way of her wrath anyway.”

“So we’re free to go?” Murphy asked, hard, like he didn’t quite believe it. 

“Not quite. She wants Bellamy flogged one more time ‘for good measure’ and then she’ll meet you outside to probably warn you or whatever.” His obvious disgust for what was happening soaked every syllable.

“Son of bitch! Why can’t yesterday just have been enough? No!”

“Clarke, it’s fine. I can go through one more,” he heard himself say, though it occurred to him he may not be in full control of his speech anymore either. No matter, he’d meant it. He could do more than one more time if it kept them all safe. Especially since he’d been able to sleep all night, even if it were on a dirty, cold cell floor.

She turned and slammed her hand into the wall to her left and roared in frustration. “This is complete bullshit!”

“Hey, come here, come here,” he beckoned. Her head snapped over to him, her look all thunder and rage. He reached through the bars to her, and she sighed and uncrossed her arms, and walked over to him. He pulled her as close as he could, putting his dirty hands on her cheeks. He’d feel bad, but he knew she didn’t care. 

“If you try to tell me it’s fine… ” she threatened. 

He shook his head. “I wasn’t going to say that; I know you wouldn’t believe me. I was just going to say,” he paused, looking at the woman in front of him. She always gave him motivation, purpose, helping him find strength to do something as small as smile, even when he felt worse than he ever had in his life. She was his sun, centering and grounding him. 

Yeah, Miller definitely had it backwards before.

“I was just going to say, we’re going _home_. Today. Don’t focus on what’s going to happen this morning. Focus on the fact that I’ll get to hold you again, kiss you again, without these damn bars between us.”

“If you make the journey! Bell - you’re hurt, _really hurt_. It’s a two journey _at least_ with you like this. And what happens when we get caught in the cold and the snow? You can barely _stand_ ,” she told him, ever the practical one. He was the vision, she was the sight. 

“Stop. Nothing is going to stop me from getting home, understand? Nothing. I have you, and Murphy, and Miller.”

“Don’t forget me,” Roan said, interrupting them.

“What the hell does that mean?” Murphy asked, frowning. 

“It means, I may have secured - ”

“ - so, stolen.” Clarke clarified.

“ - a couple horses to get you back to the village quickly. I don’t know what happened to the ones you rode in on - they weren’t there when I visited the stables last night.”

Bellamy stood, stunned, looking at the man. Why in the hell would he help them? Sure, he didn't want to marry Clarke, and was willing to look the other way when it benefited him too, but now he was stealing from his own clan. 

“Oh thank fuck. I’ve had about as much as I can handle of this fucking city,” Murphy scoffed. “And I hate being on the road, especially in the winter.”

“Why would you help us?” Bellamy inquired.

If Roan had any emotions at all, he didn’t let them cross his face. “My sister… she’s out of line. She wants to make whatever play keeps her in power, no matter who it hurts or kills. She seems to have forgotten that as Commander, Azgeda aren’t her only people anymore.”

He nodded. He knew something would have to give eventually. The clans weren’t going to be able to allow her to run unchecked much longer, but that was a different problem for a different day. For now, he needed to focus on just getting home. To his family. And his wife.

“Okay, they’ll be down in an hour to get you. It’s just past dawn, so hopefully you’ll make it back to Sonchahou sometime in the middle of the night if you don’t stop often. The horses will be a mile to the left, tied to a tree with some provisions after you exit the city.”

He stepped forward, “Thank you, Roan.”

Roan only nodded at him and turned to Clarke. “House will feel kind of empty now without you being there bossing me around and swearing all up and down it,” he told her, winking.

She laughed. “Yeah, something tells me it won’t be empty for long.”

“Fuck I hope not. Three weeks is a long time.”

“Gross,” Murphy muttered and Bellamy had to agree. He definitely didn’t need to hear about any of that. 

“Shut up Roan, get out of here before you’re caught,” Clarke commanded “Thank you,” she added, earnestly. Roan tipped his head and left quickly. 

“So you and the Prince seem… friendly,” Bellamy said, frowning a little.

“You sound jealous,” she teased, smiling at him.

“Nah, he’s not really my type,” he joked back.

“And what is your type?”

“Beautiful blondes. Blue eyes that remind me of the ocean... or a hurricane, depending on her mood. Headstrong, doesn’t take no for an answer. Brave, princess types.”

“Hmm. I’ll have to let you know if I see anyone that fits that description. It’s pretty specific.”

“Yeah, well, there’s only one woman for me, so I’m a little picky.”

She let out a little breathy laugh and despite where they were and what they were going through, he seemed to fall a little more in love with her every time she laughed like that.

“Could you guys maybe save the flirting for when we get out of this hellhole?” Murphy said, mock irritation in his tone, but a smirk creeping onto his expression.

“What’s the matter, Murphy? Missing Raven?” Clarke snarked at him.

“Feeling left out?” he added.

“You both are assholes.”

Miller laughed. “You’re going to love watching him try to flirt with Raven, Clarke. It’s seriously the highlight of everyone’s days.”

Murphy shoved him and Bellamy laughed, trying to push away the pain in his back and his side as he did so. Laughing felt good, normal, and it was helping him feel more like himself. 

“What, you can dish it but you can’t take it? You teased O mercilessly about Lincoln and me about Clarke. You think we’re going to pass up the opportunity to give it right back?” he asked, one eyebrow raised in challenge. His arm went out to steady himself on the bars, because while laughing felt good, it still hurt.

“Just shut up,” Murphy mumbled.

He finally let himself sit back down, facing the other cell, his forehead on the bars. He wasn’t going to be able to put his back against anything for a while, but he needed to rest if he was going to keep his promise to Clarke about making it home. She sat with him, her hands on his cheeks, thumbs rubbing smoothly on his skin. 

“You’re getting some stubble,” she said softly. 

“You don’t like it?” 

“I didn’t say that,” she smiled at him. 

“What did I say about the flirting?!” Murphy chided them, making them both chuckle.

A half hour later, the door clanged at the end of the hallway and he was _really_ not going to miss that sound. 

“On your feet, all of you!” the guard shouted at them, four more guards behind them. This was different. He’d expected to receive his remaining lashes down here like the day before.

“Let’s just get this over with,” Clarke muttered, removing her hands from his face and he immediately missed the peace it had given him. Their hands were bound behind their backs, except for Bellamy, whose hands were tied in his front. “It’s going to be okay, we’re almost through,” she told him.

They were marched upstairs and there was a crowd waiting outside the tower, the ground whiter than it had been when they’d gone inside before. He’d given Miller his jacket back and now without a shirt on, his body was wracked instantly with shivers.

“She’s going to have it done up here. In front of everyone.” Clarke spat with disgust.

Roan was off to the side, looking furious. Bellamy assumed this was a surprise to him too, since he’d told them it would be in the cell. Ontari was staring at them, in full warrior gear, instead of the traditional clothes the Heda wore, a whip in her hands. 

She was going to do it herself. 

“Don’t,” he told Clarke quietly. “Just let her do it and we’ll be out of here.” He knew she was about to go off on Ontari. “We’ll deal with her later, okay?” he promised, meaning every word. 

Clarke looked like she was ready to burn all of Polis down, but she stayed silent. He could see her biting the inside of her cheek though to stop herself. 

“I wanted to show everyone what happens when I am disobeyed. I will put the good of my people above my desire for vengeance against you and Luna. Let it be known what a merciful leader I am,” Ontari spouted and he saw Clarke’s jaw clench and her muscles tense.

He was shoved forward, the pain of the sudden movement and the freezing air making him see spots. He was forced to his knees, his back to Ontari. 

“After this, you will be free to crawl back to your clan, with the scars of your bad decisions on your back. If you make the journey, that is,” she sneered. Then she began, and thankfully the cold dulled his senses somewhat but any healing that had happened overnight was reversed. 

He gritted his teeth to bear it, Clarke and the rest of his family’s faces at the forefront of his mind. Just a little longer and it’d be over. The worst would be behind them and he’d finally get to take Clarke home. He’d accomplish what he set out to do. 

This was longer than the other sessions, ten cracks instead of five, but sure enough it ended. He let out a breath he hadn’t realized he’d been holding, slumping over. The guards released Clarke, Murphy, and Miller, who all ran to him instantly. Clarke knelt in front of him, cradling his jaw in her hands.

“It’s over, Bell, it’s over. We’re going to get you home now, okay? I’m here, I’ve got you.”

Words felt too heavy in his mouth so he just settled for focusing on her face, letting the two guys wrap his arms across their shoulders and turn for the exit. He could barely feel his legs, but they must’ve been working because they made their way to the crowd, who parted for them, vengeful looks on their faces. 

Ontari spoke up just as they reached the gap, but he didn’t bother turning his head in her direction. 

“All of this pain and risk for one person. She must be pretty important to you.”

She didn’t deserve a response, and he shouldn’t exert the energy it would take to give her one. He was badly dazed and in pain. But his answer wasn’t just for Ontari, it was for Clarke too, who he knew blamed herself for what he’d gone through. So he turned his gaze to his wife, who met his eyes anxiously and for just one moment, the rest of the world melted away. 

“She is.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **WARNING:** There's some physical and even a little mention of psychological torture in this chapter. The physical part is obvious when it's coming, so if you need to skim it, you should be able to. The mention of psychological is in the beginning.
> 
> **End Notes:**  
>  I have no idea really what to say. I feel like I should apologize, guys, that was SUPER awful for me to write, and this chapter took forever because of it. And reading back through to edit it was not awesome. But I stand by it because it's important for where we're headed in the final arc of the story. I can't divulge a ton of reasons WHY without spoiling it, but I'll try to add it in end notes of chapters as it's revealed. I was crazy nervous to get to this one because UGH and I knew I might lose people, which I totally understand. If this isn't what you signed up for, I won't take offense. 
> 
> Anyway, I know enjoy isn't the right word, but thank you all for sticking it out thus far. I put it all in one chapter instead of spreading it out so the pain didn't get dragged out. 
> 
> You all totally rock though. Have a great weekend, I should have the next up Sunday, maybe Saturday night if I can edit it quickly (US west coast time). ❤


	22. Chapter 22

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well so much for Saturday night, sorry everyone!
> 
> Thanks so much for the love and support and encouragement on the last chapter. Love you all!
> 
> Here we go! The journey home, plus some.
> 
> Stay safe and healthy all!

Clarke was desperately trying to hold it together. She wanted to help Bellamy get to the place Roan said he’d put the horses - _outside the city, a mile to the left_ \- she repeated like a mantra, but she wasn’t going to be able to shoulder his weight. She may be strong in many ways, but Bellamy needed more help than she was going to be able to give him. So she held herself together, and pushed down the emotion threatening to bubble over.

The three were trailing just slightly behind, Miller and Murphy on either side of Bellamy, who was moving his feet forward, but more like it was an automatic response instead of something he was consciously doing. She wasn’t sure what to do about the fact that Bellamy was still shirtless in the snow. He had to be freezing, and he’d have to borrow Miller’s jacket again once they got to the horses, considering there was no way he was going to make it back to the village with the weather the way it was. So in addition to infection, she was also worried about hypothermia.

“Just a little further, man, okay? Hang in there,” she heard Murphy tell him quietly. A quick glance back at them showed her that Bellamy had a hard expression on his face, focused, determined. He locked eyes with her and nodded her forward, but he looked exhausted and a little too pale.

They weren’t far from the spot Roan indicated, so she turned to face them. “Okay, it’s not much farther so I’m going to run ahead and grab the horses, you guys just rest and wait here. I’ll be back in a few minutes. Murphy, Miller, set him down, put some snow on his back. Make sure it’s the top layer though so it’s clean, we’ve got to make sure his wounds stay - ”

“No,” Bellamy said calmly, but firm. 

“No? Bell, we need to - ”

“We’re not splitting up, Clarke.”

_Oh._

“It’ll be faster if I go on ahead. We need to get you home so I can treat those wounds.”

“We’re not splitting up. Not again,” he insisted, shaking his head.

“We’ve got him, we can take him the rest of the way, it’s okay, Clarke,” Miller offered, seemingly understanding that there was no way Bellamy was going to let Clarke out of his sight. 

And she couldn’t really blame him, after the last time they’d split. They were still in Azgeda territory. If any warriors followed or ran into them, or her on her own…

“Okay. Fine,” she gave in, and she could see the tense muscles in his face relax a bit.

When they got home, and out of this horrible situation, Clarke would finally let herself feel it, feel the raw _anger_. No, more than that, she was _furious_. Ontari was a psychopath who had been allowed to reign terror over the clans for too long. Clarke wasn’t versed in Grounder tradition well enough yet, but she was sure of one thing. 

Ontari would not get away with this. 

This was not over.

About ten minutes later, she heard the neighing of the horses and she sprinted ahead, making sure she was still in sight of the guys. There were two large stallions tied up under a tree with large saddlebags on either side of them. Clarke had no idea where Roan had been able to steal these from that they wouldn’t be traced back to him, but at the moment she was just so grateful she didn’t even care. 

As the guys caught up she started tearing through the packs one by one, seeing food, bottled water in the first of the four bags, and in the second bag she inspected, there was clothing and a heavy jacket that was clearly meant for Bellamy.

“Thank goodness. Get him over here guys!” she beckoned and they helped him over to her. Clarke was hurrying, trying to stuff the rest back in the bag without spilling it all out on the snow and getting everything wet. 

Clarke had a passing memory of a conversation she’d had with Octavia about snow, who had insisted that it was magical and beautiful, but so far all Clarke thought about it was that it was an annoying inconvenience. 

He was standing on his own now, though she could see him wobbling a bit with the effort it was taking him to stay upright. Clarke put a hand to his face and he breathed deep, turning into her palm a little. She was pleased that it didn’t seem like he had a fever, but she could feel a thin layer of cold sweat covering his skin and she was worried that it was coming. Clarke knew the conditions of the cell they were in were far less than ideal and who knew what kind of germs the open wounds had been exposed to. They’d been careful to not get them dirty, and hopefully that helped. 

“Okay, here’s a shirt. I know it’ll probably sting on your back but we can’t let you be exposed in this cold any longer,” she explained. He nodded in understanding and started taking the shirt from her before she knocked his hands away to do it herself. She’d just gotten it over his head when Murphy called to her.

“Wait, look what else that bastard left us,” he said, jogging over to her with something in his hand. It was a small tube of something. 

Clarke snatched it away when she realized what it was. Her eyes went wide when she read the description on the side. “Is that - holy shit, it’s medicine. Where the hell did he get this?” She stared at it like it would disappear if she blinked. It wasn’t big, there wasn’t enough for much more than one use, but there was enough to spread a thin layer over his back at least. 

“I heard that they had someone over here in the Polis markets that makes the red seaweed extract into a cream,” Murphy said shrugging. “It’s supposed to last twice as long as the stuff we keep in our stores.”

Clarke could cry, she was so relieved. She turned to Bellamy who still had his shirt around his neck. “Okay, Bell, turn around, I’m going to put some of this stuff on first.”

She tried to wash her hands off with snow the best she could before squirting some of the cream onto her fingers and started lightly applying it to his back. At her first touch, he let his head hang down and started taking deep breaths.

“You doing okay?”

He nodded. “That actually feels really good. It’s numbing some of the sting,” he told her. 

Murphy piped in again. “That’s right, supposedly it uses jobi nuts or something to help with pain.”

“Okay, good. Done.” Getting Monty to figure out a way to produce their own cream would be a definite priority once they got him up and healed. Clarke used some wraps that Murphy had found to cover them and then helped him into his shirt and jacket. She kissed his back lightly and he twisted his head to give her a small smile. 

“C’mere,” he gestured, lifting an arm so she could duck underneath to come around to his front. They needed to get a move on, get going so they could get him home as quickly as possible. But they’d had so few moments since they’d gotten married, or even since they’d admitted that they were in love that she allowed her rational side a break so she could allow his heart to lead them. 

When they were face to face, he lifted his hands to cradle her cheeks. “Thank you. For taking care of me. I love you.”

She willed her tears back, now was not the time to give in to that particular expression of emotion. If she let herself start to cry she wasn’t sure she’d be able to stop. “I love you too.” 

He brought her face up to his, making her need to stand on her tiptoes to reach him, and kissed her, simple and chaste, but soulful. 

Murphy cleared his throat from his spot on top of one of the horses. 

They parted and stepped over to join them. Miller had a spot on one horse and Murphy on the other. She furrowed her brows a little bit.

“You shouldn’t ride with him. He needs to be able to lean on someone for the duration of the ride. It should be me,” Miller told her before she could ask, obviously knowing what Clarke’s expression meant. Clarke saw his point, but she still didn’t like it. She didn’t like anything that separated the two of them, even if she trusted Miller beyond words. But since that was clearly the best option, she let Miller extend his arm down to help swing Bellamy up and behind him. He groaned loudly, clearly in pain and he practically curled over Miller’s back. 

Yeah, she wouldn’t have been able to lead a horse if he was crouched over on her like that. 

She swung herself up behind Murphy, only just now noticing that he had a new knife on his belt. 

“Where’d you get that?” she asked as Murphy guided them away and started the horses at a light trot to get them going. 

“Roan apparently also included assorted weapons. I think I have to stop hating him now.”

“Oh give it time, I’m sure he’ll get back on your bad side in no time,” she teased. She leaned down to look towards the pack he’d indicated. “Wait, a bow?” she asked when she noticed one looped around the pack.

“Yeah. I’m not sure why he threw that on there. None of us use bows.”

“I do, actually,” she told him, suddenly a little embarrassed for some reason. “Part of how I was able to stall the wedding was I told them I wanted to be trained like Azgeda in order to properly integrate into the clan. So Roan and I trained - a lot. I found out I’m pretty decent with a bow.”

Murphy glanced back in surprise. “Huh. Okay, then, it’s yours.” He leaned over and swung off the bow and arrow set and she caught it and slung it over her shoulder. She liked the way it sat; it was smaller than the other ones she’d been using to train with, more her size. It felt good, knowing that she had a long range weapon to defend themselves with should they need it. 

Murphy took off at a faster pace then, once they knew that Miller and Bellamy were secured and ready to go. 

She wrapped her arms around Murphy’s waist to hold herself on, still not quite used to riding a horse, especially at the speed Murphy was coaxing. It was exhilarating and terrifying all at the same time. Her head started drooping after a while, as the horse’s steady pace started luring her to sleep, the adrenaline that had been pumping through her fading. 

Once her head hit his back, she turned her face to the side to watch Bellamy and Miller, who were galloping next to them. Bellamy was in a similar position as she was, though a little more limp, and his eyes closed. They’d have to stop soon to give the horses a rest; they were carrying a lot of weight, but for now, they could stand a little while longer so he could rest. She knew he hated being taken care of, hated that he wasn’t the one who could lead and guide them right now, but she would do her best to pick it up until he was back on his feet.

She started drifting off, and reminded Murphy to wake her up after a little while. He just hummed in acknowledgement but waved her off, telling her she should get some rest herself. 

She faded soon after that, eyes focused on Bellamy until she couldn’t keep them open any longer.

\------------------------

“Clarke,” she could hear Murphy calling to her, shaking his shoulder gently so her head would bob around. “Come on, Clarke, wake up.”

She popped her head up and looked around, squinting her eyes and yawning. They were stopped, but all she could see around her were woods. Though there was only a thin dusting of snow here, so they must have made it farther south.

“What’s going on? Why are we stopped?” she asked as she internally begged her mind to catch up with what was happening. She whirled her gaze around until she saw Bellamy on the ground, with Miller crouched over him, their horse grazing lazily next to them. She swung her leg ungracefully off the horse and hurried over to him. “Miller, what’s going on?” Bellamy had his eyes closed, but his face was squinting every once in a while. 

“I don’t know. We were riding, he was sleeping, and then he started mumbling random things. At first I figured it was just him sleep talking or something - ”

“He doesn’t talk in his sleep,” she said, mostly to herself.

“Yeah, that’s what Murphy said. And then he started slipping off my back. So we decided to stop. But I couldn't get him fully conscious, and I had to ease him off the horse myself while Murphy woke you up.”

She refused to panic, refused to expect the worst. Chances were, he was just too exhausted to hold himself up while sleeping.

She reached out a hand to his face gently, but even an inch away she could feel the heat from an obvious fever. _Shit_. “Bell, hey, can you hear me?” Her cold hand connected with his clammy skin. 

_Shit, shit, shit, shit._

Fuck.

“We need to get him home, I need to get more stuff on his back, he needs to be out of this cold and cleaned up. Shit.” She hoped they would at least be back at the village before any infection set in, since infections usually took a couple days to manifest, but if he’d gotten whatever bacteria was doing this during one of his initial floggings, then it’d been growing steadily for about that amount of time.

“Mmm, Clarke?” he asked, still a little sleepy.

“Yeah, hey, I’m here. We’re going to get you home, okay?”

“For all the kissing?” he asked deliriously, clearly remembering how they were flirting, shit, barely two nights ago?

“Yeah, for all the kissing,” she agreed softly, kissing his forehead. She shook her head. Okay, Murphy, help me get him back on behind Miller,” she called shakily to Murphy who had been feeding and giving water to the horses. “We’re going to tie him on so he doesn’t fall off. Miller, you sure you’re okay to still hang onto him?”

“Yeah, Clarke, I’ve got him, don’t worry,” Miller assured her, but she detected an undertone of worry. 

She really was trying not to panic, but it was getting more difficult by the second. She didn’t bother undressing his wounds, it would only expose them to more germs and she didn’t have any more of the medicine anyway. 

Once they got him up behind Miller and secured, Clarke swung her leg up in the front this time, with Murphy situated behind her. She needed to be focused on guiding them home. 

After a few more hours, they slowed as they got closer to the village. It was dark, late in the night, and she could see the sentries up on the tall towers they used for scouting. They were still a little ways out, maybe ten minutes or so, but she was relieved they were spotted so they could light the signal fire that they’d been seen so the village could be waiting. 

Sure enough, about ten minutes later, the gates came in view and she glanced over to see Bellamy still secured to Miller, who had a determined, focused expression etched onto his features. 

The gates were already open by the time they rode up and she rode the horses straight in, not pulling up on the reins until they were fully inside. 

Harper, Monty, Jasper, Octavia, and Lincoln were already waiting when they stopped the horses. Raven was a little further up the path, clearly not being able to get there quite as quickly as the rest of the group.

“Clarke! What the fuck is going on?” Octavia said, worry filling her features as she took in the state of their group and her brother. Clarke knew there would be a lot of questions, but the answers would take too long to give at that moment. 

“Harper! Get the clinic ready, we need every plant and herb with anti-infection properties ready to go, and lots of purified water and towels and soap,” she started, largely ignoring Octavia in favor of getting things moving. There would be time for an explanation after. Harper nodded, with only a slight moment of hesitation, and took off with Monty and Jasper following behind. “Lincoln, help Bellamy down. He can’t support his own weight, and isn’t conscious, so you and Miller will need to carry him. _Don’t touch his back_ , if you can help it.”

“Clarke!” Octavia shouted at her as she got to the ground. “You’re back,” she said emphatically, moisture in her eyes. “Is my brother okay?” 

Clarke ran up to her, as Lincoln and Miller and Murphy worked on getting Bellamy down. She wrapped O in a tight hug. “Yes. I’ll explain everything and I know I have no right to really promise that, but I - I can’t lose him. I won’t. I’m too stubborn to let him be anything but okay,” she told her, giving her new sister a small smile.

 _Sister_. So much had changed and there wasn’t enough time for any of it. 

“Careful, careful!” she insisted, running up to Bellamy’s side, and Murphy shot her an irritated look, but she knew he understood. “Hey, hey, can you hear me? We’re home, Bell, we made it,” she said to him as she checked his temperature again. It wasn’t any worse, still about the same since they stopped about five hours ago. 

They all took off for the clinic, her and Octavia following. She was so happy to be home, walking familiar paths and breathing the salty air she loved. But until she got her husband’s injuries under control she couldn’t really enjoy any of it. Part of what she loved about this place, about her home, was _him_.

He was going to be fine. He had to be.

They burst in and laid Bellamy on one of the beds, stomach down. “Harper, scissors,” she commanded, holding a hand out as Miller helped work the jacket off. She noticed her hands shaking, probably from a mixture of adrenaline, exhaustion, and fear, but she needed to pull herself together. 

She cut up the side of his shirt, and pulled it off. Bellamy was still pretty unconscious, only mumbling every once in a while, but he wasn’t responding to her anymore and that worried her. She hesitated before taking the dressings off. It was bad, it was going to be bad, and she needed them to prepare. A quick explanation was going to be needed, regardless of the fact that she just wanted to get to work. 

Clarke turned to face them, Murphy at her side. He seemed to sense what she was about to do, because he grabbed her hand and nodded. She opened her mouth and took a deep breath, “I don’t have time to go into details, but Ontari wasn’t exactly happy that we circumvented her wishes and she had Bellamy punished for it.”

“Punished how?” Octavia asked, her fury bubbling up under her words.

“Do we need to have lookouts for Azgeda?” Lincoln asked quietly, shifting so he was closer to Octavia.

“I think they’ve let us go, but it wouldn’t hurt to keep an extra eye out,” she addressed Lincoln, who nodded, then she steeled herself to face O. “He was whipped, repeatedly. And I think he might have an infection,” Murphy’s hand squeezed hers when her voice broke at the explanation. “It’s not going to be pretty so I needed you to know before I took off the dressings.”

She started cutting into the dressings then, her hands shaking even worse, so Harper came up on Bellamy’s other side and started helping, giving her a soft smile, but had a determined look in her eyes. Bellamy let out a groan as they lifted the dressings off, sticking to the wounds in places.

“Monty, warm water,” Harper requested. Monty had it ready to go and they used it to ease off the rest of the wraps. 

“Here,” a voice said gently, and Clarke whipped her head around to see Raven at her side all of sudden. But there she was with a mug of something. And a cloth that smelled like… peppermint? “I’ve got some jobi nut tea for him to drink and if he can’t do that, then I’ve got some peppermint to have him inhale.”

Clarke looked at her in surprise. She knew that peppermint helped with fever and pain, even just inhaling it through the olfactory nerve would send a message to the pain receptors in his brain, but she hadn’t been able to find the plant anywhere the last time she was in the village. “Uh, that’s… where did you - ? You know what, nevermind, I need to get these cleaned, you go ahead and try,” she gave Raven permission. The woman nodded and moved towards Bellamy’s head.

She focused on the now exposed injuries and her and Harper worked as they always had, seamlessly, weaving around each other getting him cleaned up. She was relieved that her weeks gone hadn’t affected that. The wounds weren’t as inflamed as she had feared, so she hoped the infection would pass quickly with enough attention. Clarke realized she was going to need to stitch some of the deeper wounds though. 

“Okay, I was able to coax some tea in him, and put some peppermint on his temples and under his nose. Need anything else?” Raven asked. 

Clarke just shook her head and she felt Raven move past her to wait with the rest of them, most of whom hadn’t moved. Octavia was standing at his feet, a look of pure hatred on her face. When all was said and done, would they blame her? Would they look at her and see how very not worth it she was for Bellamy to have gone through what he was? She was already struggling with that herself. She knew they loved her, so she tried to rest in that.

About an hour later, Bellamy was stitched and his wounds redressed, with warm blankets covering him to keep the chill off. His head was still warm, and probably would be with the blankets on him now, but she couldn’t risk hypothermia anymore than they already had. 

It was very late, so most of them had already crashed on one of the other beds, or the chairs, or in Jasper's case, the floor. Murphy was passed out on the bed next to her and Bellamy, and Octavia had finally moved from his feet to take Harper’s place on his other side. 

“Clarke?” O asked softly, trying not to wake anyone else up. She had circles under her eyes, and unshed tears glistened in the corners. Clarke looked at her, already knowing the question before she asked. “What _happened_?”

“He did it for me. I should never have - ”

“Okay, stop. I may not know how he got these injuries - well, actually, I guess you more or less told us what caused them - but I do know it was not your fault. So what happened?”

Clarke licked her lips and turned to Bellamy, brushing hair back from his face. He was sleeping now, pretty soundly, his pulse steady. Whatever Raven had been able to get into him seemed to be helping. “We got married,” she began and a smile bloomed across O’s face. 

“You did?” she asked, her voice softening and her eyes moistening. “You were able to go through with it?”

“Yeah, it was… beautiful, he was amazing. But something went wrong - Ontari caught him and Titus and they dragged me in front of her and he was already - anyway. She was livid. Furious.”

“What about Luna’s note?”

“She read it, but refused to make a decision then and there. She wanted to show us that even if she decided to agree to Luna’s requests, that she was still Heda. And punishment was necessary, to show the people not to disobey her,” she tried to keep her voice neutral, but even she could hear the revulsion in her tone.

“Fuck.”

“And because Bell - Bellamy was the leader…”

“He would have to be the one to take it,” O said through gritted teeth.

“I’m so sorry, I begged Ontari to punish me instead - ” she tried to explain and O’s eyes flashed with anger Apparently both Blakes didn’t like that she had done that. “But she wanted my punishment to be to watch the man I love in pain.”

“Bitch.”

“She’s not going to get away with it. She has to be stopped.” Clarke said, more to herself than to Octavia. Clarke was enraged. No one who reveled in that kind of violence deserved to be in charge. 

Octavia nodded anyway. “Congratulations, by the way. I wish I could have been there.”

Clarke shook her head. “No, it was good you weren’t,” she chuckled sardonically. “It was dangerous. And he did it save me,” she sniffled and moved a little closer. She didn’t want to crowd him, wanted him to rest, but she also wanted to _feel_ him, to meld as one with him, so she could shoulder some of it for him.

“Clarke, he did it because my brother is _so_ in love with you. It’s like you are two parts of a whole as cheesy as that sounds and without you here… he just looked lost. And he was so worried about you being surrounded by people who glorify that kind of violence. He never once thought you couldn’t handle it, but he wanted to be by your side anyway,” Octavia told her and Clarke couldn’t respond, but she was losing her battle with the tears pooled at the corners of her eyes. She knew all of that, but it was nice to be reminded. Looking around the room then, Octavia added, “He did it because you are our family, all of us. We all love you. You wouldn’t hesitate to protect any one of us, so don’t think for one second we wouldn’t do the same for you. There was a hole here, without you, that we all felt. It wasn’t even a question of whether we would come for you. Hell, even Murphy braved the cold journey for you.”

Clarke snorted. “That’s true. He wouldn’t stop complaining about how cold it was.”

“Well if that isn’t love…” Octavia winked at her. 

Clarke looked at the man in question curled up behind her on the bed, completely passed out. And just like Miller mentioned in the cell, Raven was sitting in a chair next to him, her head laying on one of his outstretched hands. “So this is happening, hmm?”

O laughed. “Kind of? She was worried sick the entire time he was away, though anyone that mentioned it got their head bit off. I think she cares more than she lets on though. She’s wicked smart, she and Monty had their heads together getting that brace put together for her leg. It was a good distraction for her.”

“She never got any feeling back in the lower half?”

Octavia shook her head. “She’s tough though, but it’s been an adjustment.”

Clarke nodded. “And Jasper and Miller?” 

“They’re good,” she chuckled. “You know, Monty lit up when Jasper got here, I don’t think the two of them stopped crying for hours. When he and Miller got here, it was like they’d been here forever.” 

“What about the baby? How’re you two?” she asked finally, desperately hoping that the answer was a good one. 

Octavia smiled. “We’re good. Harper got a heartbeat on the steth last night, actually. I wanted to wait for Bell, but she insisted. And she was right, he’d be pissed if I’d waited for something like that.”

“Octavia,” Clarke said sweetly, taking the joy where she could. “You’re having a _baby_.”

“Yeah, a little one for this crazy family,” she laughed. “They’ll have lots of aunts and uncles, that’s for sure.”

“Lots of love,” Clarke agreed. _Auntie Clarke_. The concept was so weird, so far from what she thought would happen to her when she’d signed up for this mission on the Ark in the first place. 

But sometimes the best things are things you don’t see coming. The things you can’t plan for. 

Octavia stayed awake for another half hour and Clarke asked her about Aurora, whether they should go let her know they were back and what had happened. O hesitated, considering it, but ultimately decided to wait a little longer, to see if he'd wake up first so they wouldn't worry their mother unnecessarily. Eventually Octavia's head started to droop so badly that Clarke told her to go ahead and get some rest. She’d tried to protest, but Clarke promised she wasn’t going anywhere. She wasn’t even sure she could if she even wanted to. Her body and her heart were glued to his side and they would be until he woke up. 

Clarke nudged Murphy, telling him his pregnant sister needed the bed, even though Octavia insisted the floor would be fine. Clarke ignored her though and Murphy gave up the bed willingly. He plopped down in the chair next to Raven and Clarke saw him hesitate a moment before wrapping an arm around her. Raven remained sleeping but shifted slightly so that her head rested on his shoulder. Murphy fell back to sleep with a small smile on his face.

Octavia was out as soon as her head hit the pillow and then it was just her awake. She turned back to Bellamy and sniffled a little. “Hey. It’s me. Your, uh, wife. We haven’t really gotten a real chance to be married yet, figure out what that means and I just - I need you to fight, okay? I don’t have a right to ask that of you after all of this, I know. But Bell, you’re a fighter. You can do this, you can fight this and I’m _right here_. I’m not going anywhere. I love you, I’m so in love with you and you always say this to me, but _I’ve got you_. This time _I’ve_ got _you_ and I’m not letting go,” she rambled, saying everything that was on her mind. Everything she wanted him to know. 

She hoped that on some level he could hear her.

\------------------------

A door opened somewhere after hours or days or seconds had passed and she could hear hushed voices talking around her, like she wasn’t even there but she couldn’t bring herself to care even a little bit about what was happening.

She finally heard Harper say that it had been 18 hours since they’d gotten back to the village. Clarke had probably only slept maybe a couple hours in that whole time. She changed his dressings every couple of hours, infinitely relieved everytime that the redness and swelling eased just a little bit more. His body needed rest, but tensions were high in the clinic and everyone was more or less waiting with baited breath. 

She was so tired so could barely see, so she just let the voices around her float around her subconscious instead of trying to focus on the actual words. Harper helped anyone who came in for assistance that day, which thankfully were not many people. 

Lincoln, Murphy and Miller left them for a while so they could update Lincoln and Anya on what had happened and what to expect from Azgeda. Which wasn’t a lot, supposedly Ontari had exacted her anger already and would presumably leave them alone, though Clarke didn’t trust that for a second. She was growing steadily more angry, more determined to show the clans that Ontari could not continue to rule. 

She had no idea where to start, but she had plenty of time to think about it whether it was even feasible. Her mind spun with the different possibilities, and struggled with what the right direction to take would be. She needed Bellamy though, needed his heart, his passion, his leadership to help her figure this out. She couldn’t do it alone, didn’t _want_ to do it alone. 

So really what she needed was him to _wake up._

She was trying to be patient, tried to remind herself that he needed the rest, that it was good for him, but every hour that passed only helped to grow her anxiety instead of ease it.

Her family took turns shoving food and water at her, the water of which she drank readily, but the food she only picked at. Bellamy was going to get dehydrated himself if he didn’t wake soon and she added that to the list of things to be concerned about.

She hadn’t had a real chance to talk to everyone yet, only answering questions in a short perfunctory manner and for the most part, it seemed like they didn’t want to push anyway. The cabin was warm, thanks to the fire that Monty and Jasper continued to stoke. 

Raven was sitting next to her at that moment, having been the one to bring her water that time. Octavia had brought her clothing to change into, knowing she wasn’t planning on leaving Bellamy’s side anytime soon, but she was filthy from the cell floor, the dress she’d been wearing hardly recognizable anymore. There was also the matter of the wound from the spear on her back that she wasn’t originally going to do anything about yet, but Murphy spoke up as everyone was leaving to give her privacy to change. 

She’d glared at him for outting her, but she was still grateful he wanted to make sure she was taken care of too. So Harper had stayed and cleaned and dressed it for her before she put on the clean long sleeve and pants.

“How’s the leg?” Clarke asked Raven after she’d tried to get more water into Bellamy and everyone had started filing back into the room. He was taking the water and swallowing, but that might have been more reflex than anything. Either way, she was happy that he was getting some sort of fluids. 

Raven shrugged. “Sucks, but I’m dealing with it. I’m alive, so that’s enough for now.”

Clarke nodded. Being from the Ark, Raven learned just as Clarke hard, that surviving was essential, that being _alive_ was the only goal. 

Now she was going to have to relearn, just like Clarke had. Surviving wasn’t everything, and simply being alive wasn’t the same as actually living. She’d get there. Maybe Murphy would have a shot with her after all. 

Something brushed her fingers on the bed so lightly that Clarke thought she'd imagined it at first. Her eyes snapped away from Raven and over to her hand and froze, waiting to see if it happened again.

It did.

Bellamy’s hand that she’d been holding twitched, his thumb brushing lightly across her knuckles. Clarke let out something akin to a choked sob/laugh at the featherlight touch. Her heart was pounding and her skin practically felt like it was vibrating. The motion was deliberate and intentional and if it were those things, then he might be regaining some consciousness.

She scooted closer to his face, brushing his hair away from his eyes like she’d already done a thousand times already, relieved that his forehead felt much cooler than the last time. “Bellamy? Hey, it’s me. Can you hear me?” she asked softly. The room had gone quiet around her at her words and they all stood around them with rapt attention.

Nothing happened for a moment and she was afraid he was slipping back under when he let out a low groan. Clarke let out a breath she hadn’t even realized she was holding. 

“C - Clarke,” he managed to say, low and hoarse.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m here. I’ve got you, you’re okay.” His eyes fluttered behind his eyelids. “It’s okay, take your time. We’re all here.”

“So no pressure,” he slurred and she saw his lips quirk up in a smirk. Clarke let out a small chuckle and she heard similar noises from all around them. He took a sharp intake of breath all of sudden and his eyes shot open. “Clarke! Where - Clarke!” He tried pushing himself up on his elbows, groaning in pain the entire way. He was panicked and his eyes started darting around wildly.

“Hey, stop,” Clarke tried, pushing on his shoulders to get him to lay back down. “Bell, you need to calm down.”

Bellamy ignored her grip on his shoulder and finished pulling himself up to a sitting position. He grabbed her wrist and locked eyes with her and she could practically hear the rapid pace of his heart. She put a hand on his cheek and leaned forward slowly so that their foreheads were touching. She stepped between his legs so they were as close as they could be in his condition, and she slid her hand back a little so she could scratch his scalp lightly. His eyes fluttered shut again.

“That’s it, breathe with me. Just breathe, you’re okay. You’re home.”

“Home?”

“Yeah, we’re back in the village. All of us.”

“The village?” He lifted his head up to face her, a crease between his brows as his eyes looked into hers, searching for information, for strength, for peace. All things she hoped she was giving him. They’d always been good with using touch and looks to ground and support each other.

He took a deep breath. “What happened? How did we get here?” Bellamy looked around confused and the rest of their family was standing stock still, some with tears in their eyes, some with smiles on their faces, and all of them just as anxious as Clarke was. 

“What’s the last thing you remember?”

“You. I remember confirming what Ontari said about you being important,” he told her and _fuck_ she hadn’t realized he’d lost that much time. She let out another one of those sob/laughs. “I don’t even remember leaving Polis. How did we get out? Did Roan leave horses for us like he said he would?”

She nodded. “Yeah, there’s - I can explain everything later, but yeah, Miller and Murphy helped you to the horses. We eventually had to tie you onto Miller to keep you on. You were passed out, delirious for most of the journey.”

“And everyone is okay? Everyone is back? _Your_ back! Did you - ”

She shook her head. “Stop, Bell, you’re going to overdo it. You’ve been out for a while. My back is fine. Harper cleaned it up for me,” she told him.

“Yeah, after I made sure she even knew about it,” she heard Murphy grumble and Clarke shot him a look. Bellamy took another deep breath. 

“How is my back looking?”

“Badass,” Murphy piped in again, earning him a look from everyone else that time. “Sorry,” he added, clearly regretting it. Everyone knew he tended to joke inappropriately when something bad had happened.

“Your back is fine. It’s going to heal fine. It’s been getting steadily better while you’ve been out - ”

“How long?”

“ - almost 24 hours since we've been back. It’ll scar, but it shouldn’t have any lasting damage.”

He nodded and slumped over, letting his head rest on her collarbone. “Come on, you need to drink some and then rest.”

“Have _you_ slept at all?”

“A little.”

Just about everyone either snorted or scoffed or laughed and Clarke almost growled at them.

“So, no,” he surmised, lifting his head to smirk at her. “Can I just go back to my bed? Our bed in the cabin?”

“Bell you can barely walk and your wounds are still setting and healing. Give it another day please so you don’t reopen or strain anything - ”

“Clarke - ”

“Please. One more day,” she pleaded. If he really wanted to leave, she’d let him, after McCreary he had let her go home after she woke up, but she still had to try.

“Fine. But I’m sleeping on my side instead of my stomach.”

Clarke sighed. “Deal,” she turned to face the rest of them. “Octavia, can you get him some water, Raven maybe some more of the jobi tea?”

Bellamy protested immediately. “No jobi tea. That crap makes you loony and the pain isn’t that bad, I can handle it.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Fine, just water then,” she conceded, but Raven slipped her more peppermint soaked cloth.

Once they had settled him back down on the bed - on his side as requested - she let him talk to O and Murphy for a little bit while she walked around and stretched her legs a bit. Harper asked to check her back so she let her change her bandages. Always one eye on him. 

“Congratulations, by the way. Heard you two got married,” Harper told her, with a sweet smile. 

“It was only a few days ago, but it feels like forever ago. Or another lifetime.”

Harper hummed. “Well maybe that’s because your two souls have been together for longer than a few days. You two started loving each other long ago and who knows? Maybe you have been married in many many lifetimes prior to this one. You’ll figure it out, _ai lukot_ ,” she told Clarke and out of all the words and phases she’d learned in Trig, _friend_ was one of her favorites. It reminded her that she had almost more people than she could count to call that. 

“He’s all yours,” Octavia told her, stepping back so Clarke could sit next to him again. The rest of them filed out quickly after that, probably ready to sleep in their actual beds now that he’d woken up and were reasonably sure he’d make it out of this. 

“Hey,” she told him, smiling. He gave her one of his own back and she wanted to cry. She'd missed his smile so much. 

“Hey,” he said quietly, fading already. “C’mere.” He scooted back on the bed a bit and lifted his arm. She looked at him dubiously. “Come on, you can’t spend another night with your head on a table next to me.” When she still didn’t budge he tried again, “Why do you think I wanted to sleep on my side?”

Clarke sighed and shook her head. Unwilling to not give him anything he asked for, she finally toed off her boots and jacket and carefully let herself lay next to him under the blankets, not touching him, too afraid that she’d cause him pain. 

He groaned and she was afraid she’d done something wrong and was about to climb off the table when his arm came down on top of her, splaying his hand on the small of her back and dragging her towards him until she was so close she could practically hear his heartbeat.

“Is this okay?” he asked. “I just - I just want to hold you.” 

She nodded into his chest, sighing with how perfectly they still fit, how profoundly she’d missed being held by him like this. Warm, protected, safe, _loved_.

“I love you,” she told him, quiet, but firm.

He ducked his head down to kiss her and it was brief, too brief, but she could still feel his whole heart in it. “I love you too, Princess.” She ducked her head into his chest, her palm against his heart to remind herself he was alive.

They drifted off together, no nightmares, no one attacking them or separating them. Just two people intensely in love, married, and wanting to be nowhere in the world except in the other’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Finallllllly we end on a hopeful note! They're back and he's past the infection and now they can look forward. And there's a LOT to look forward to as we get further into the ramifications of what happened in Polis and how that affects their journey.
> 
> Thank you!! 
> 
> If anyone wants to check out the moodboard that [grounderkingbellamy](https://grounderkingbellamy.tumblr.com/) made for this fic, [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488) it is on my tumblr!
> 
> I'm shooting for the next update to be Wednesday night. ❤


	23. Chapter 23

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all! 
> 
> OMG that premiere! I absolutely LOVED it and am so excited to see where the season goes.
> 
> Hope you all enjoy this newest update. I struggled with some parts of it, but I think it turned out okay, a lot lighter than the past couple. 
> 
> As always, it's awesome to hear from you and I'm so thankful for everyone who is taking time to read this story of mine! ❤

“Would you just let us help you?” Clarke asked Bellamy, exasperated. She’d managed to keep him in the clinic for one night and one night only before he was now putting up a stink about not being in his own bed. He insisted that he could lay down there just as well as in the clinic and well, he wasn’t wrong. 

But it still made Clarke nervous, not being near all the supplies they would need to help him in case the infection made another appearance. But so far, his fever was finally gone completely, and the redness and swelling was minimal. Two days ago he was half dead and now he was arguing with her about getting things back to normal. 

Whatever normal was anymore. She hadn’t been in Sonchahou for three weeks, but it was still home to her, more home than anywhere else, even the Ark. Somehow though, it was still different. She more than just that she lived there, or was their primary healer, she was married to their leader now, more embedded than ever in the village. It wasn’t a bad thing, but she didn’t know how exactly to figure out what that meant, if anything.

She’d found out Miller and Jasper had moved into her old cabin, which was fine, but once Bellamy left the clinic, she’d be living with him. And while she definitely wanted it, they hadn’t talked about it and the thought of sharing a bed every night, well, it also made her heart pound so heavily it felt like it might explode out of her chest with anticipation.

“I would let you help, _if_ I needed it. But my legs are fine. I can walk, see?” he mocked, walking to the door of the clinic. And then, because he apparently just couldn’t help it, he pretended to trip, almost giving her a heart attack. 

“You’re a stubborn ass,” she told him, trying not to smile at the smirk he was giving her.

“Yeah, well, we’re married now, so you’re stuck with my stubborn ass,” he retorted, raising an eyebrow in challenge. He walked back over to her, driving home his point again that he didn’t need help. Or maybe it was just even being a room’s width apart was too far. She wouldn't blame him, after everything that had happened she wasn’t likely to let him leave her sight if she could help it. 

He wrapped his arms around her and she leaned her forehead onto his chest, breathing in deep before looking back up at him. 

“I think there are worse things than being stuck with your stubborn ass,” she said softly, allowing a playful smile to grow on her lips. He leaned over, one of his hands coming up to slide onto the side of her face, holding her lips to his as they kissed. She let herself get lost in it until someone cleared her throat near them, reminding her that they weren’t actually alone.

“Well, before this gets anymore… _more_ \- ” Murphy began. “ - we should probably get you back home before you actually collapse trying to show off to your wife.”

“See, Murphy agrees with me. Accept the help,” she tried again, but he just smiled. He must’ve been in pain still, no one comes out with the injuries he had, almost _dying_ , and smiles like _that_ without some discomfort. But there he was, a grin stretched across his face like none of that had happened. “Stop with the smiling.”

“He said _wife_ ,” Bellamy pointed out.

Murphy made gagging noises in the background and Clarke bit her lip to keep from giving in. “Did Raven give you jobi tea or something? You sound like Jasper.”

“What? I’m not allowed to find the joy amidst the pain?” he asked. “And, yes, maybe a little,” he admitted.

“What? When?” she asked, though she really already knew the answer. She’d only left Bellamy side less than a handful of times since getting back so obviously it was one of those. “I thought you didn’t want any, that it made you loopy?”

He ran a hand through his hair. “Yeah, well, I knew once I actually stood up that I might be in a little more pain, so when she offered, I drank a little.”

Clarke just smiled and shook her head. “Whatever, up to you. Okay, okay, Murphy’s right, we should go.” She grabbed his arm and he moved her hand down so they were holding hands instead. She glanced over at Murphy who nodded and moved so he could walk behind them. 

Bellamy grumbled something under his breath but he squeezed her hand without speaking up and they were off. It was slow going at first, and he was clearly trying not to wince with the effort it was taking to walk further than just across the clinic. Clarke could see the gleam on his neck from sweat starting to bead up and since it was freezing outside, she knew it wasn’t from the weather.

They’d had snow flurries, but no actual snow yet, which Clarke was grateful for. Snow seemed like it was just going to make everything more difficult so for now it could stay away.

Once they reached the cabin, he paused at the base of the steps with his hand on the railing. His forehead started creasing like it did when he was concentrating and Clarke bit her lip to keep from asking once again if he wanted help. But she settled instead for squeezing his hand to remind him she was right there if he did.

“Blake.” Murphy said out loud, his way of reminding him that he was there too.

“I’m fine. Just - ” he cleared his throat a little. “That was just a longer walk than - I’m fine.”

“It’s okay to not be fine,” she said gently.

He gave her one last squeeze and then took the steps quickly, and she could see the muscles in his jaw clench. They opened the door wide and she just stood there gaping as they took it in. Octavia, Harper, Monty, Jasper, and Miller were all in there. 

O and Harper were busy putting some finishing touches on various woven branches and evergreen wreaths and berries of some sort. There was an abundance of candles and a fire roaring away in his fireplace that Miller was attending to, and Monty and Jasper had cups of something that most assuredly moonshine along with a generous amount of food out on the table. 

“Guys, what is this?” she asked, though she could probably have figured it out without asking. 

Jasper spoke up. “Well, it’s a combination _welcome home_ and _congratulations you’re married_ celebration.” He walked up to Clarke and gave her a big hug and she laughed in spite of herself. Monty came up behind Jasper and wrapped his arms around both of them. It was so light and friendly and sweet and for the first time she really allowed herself to feel how much she’d missed these people. She’d been so focused on keeping Bellamy alive that she hadn’t really allowed herself a moment to breathe.

So she gripped them back and allowed them to pull her too tight, until Miller joined the party from behind her and she had a hard time breathing. The four of them had survived being sent to the ground, locked up, traded, almost killed, and now they were together again, all of them in the same place. 

Octavia and Harper had helped Bellamy into one of his chairs at the table, and she saw him smiling over at her with a soft look in his eyes, watching her as she laughed and got more and more tightly squished. His look told her that he knew what she was thinking and feeling and he must be _exhausted_ but he didn’t show it or try to rush anything, letting her have her moment.

Murphy had already downed one cup of moonshine and was on his second cup by the time they all separated. 

“Speaking of, _Clarke_ ,” Jasper said, dropping his voice and handing her her own cup of drink. “You’re _married_ ,” he told her like it was some sort of secret making her laugh again, and reminding her of what she’d told Bellamy about sounding like Jasper not ten minutes ago. 

“Yes, Jasper, I know. I was there.”

“But none of the rest of us were - ” O started saying.

“I was!” Murphy gloated.

“So was I,” Miller added.

Octavia glared at them. “Didn’t anyone ever teach you not to argue with the pregnant lady?”

Murphy snorted. “Like we were ever going to get through nine whole months without arguing.” Octavia threw a pinecone at his head, which he tried to dodge, but it ended up getting him in the ear.

“ _Anyway_ , most of us didn’t get to be there or see it because someone was too protective to let me come - ” she started again, sending a disapproving look at Bellamy, who rolled his eyes. “ - and we will make sure to have a big party later, once you all are healed - and I really mean _big_ \- but you guys are home, and you’re safe, and we had to do something to mark the occasion.” 

Murphy raised his eyebrows. “Unless, you know, you two would prefer to be left _alone_.”

Clarke blushed furiously, and that caught everyone’s attention. 

She chuckled nervously, and noticed Bellamy running a hand through his hair and the tips of his ears turning red, and he was avoiding looking in her direction.

“Oh leave them alone, Murphy,” Harper chastised. “Besides Bellamy is still recovering,” she pointed out and Clarke had never been more grateful for her than in that second. 

It wasn’t like Clarke hadn’t thought about what would happen when they finally got back, and Bellamy’s back healed. In fact, she’d probably thought about it way more than any of them could even guess. Every time he kissed her, or put his hand on her waist or face or _fuck_ even just looked at her, it was like a jolt of electricity lighting up every nerve end in her body. But they’d yet to even have a moment alone, let alone a conversation about it.

Not that much talking would really be required, if Bellamy’s flushed skin was any indication of where he stood on the matter.

“So?” Murphy pushed and if he didn’t stop, she was going to throw something at him that was much bigger than a pinecone. “There are plenty of other - ”

“Hello?! Sister, _right fucking here_ ,” Octavia said threateningly. 

“So anyway,” Clarke started, finally finding her voice again, “How have you been liking the village, Jasper? And Miller, too, since it’s not like we got a lot of time to talk in Polis.” She sat on one of the chairs near the fireplace, curling her legs up under her. 

“It’s - whew. Really awesome,” Jasper remarked. “And have you seen their chef, Maya? She’s - ”

“Yes, we all know about your crush, Jasper,” Murphy teased. 

“Clarke doesn’t!” Jasper said unabashedly.

Monty started laughing. “Subtly has never really been his strong suit.”

“I’ve never found much use for it,” Jasper shrugged and then him and Monty held up their hands for their little self-five and Harper shook her head, chuckling. “Besides, I’m not the only one who’s got a crush… Murphy’s been eyeing Raven.”

“Now that one I knew about,” Clarke laughed, amused. "And where _is_ Raven?"

Murphy’s gaze turned into a scowl. “She was needed for something over in the blacksmith cabin last minute and I don’t have a _crush_ , I’m not seven,” he snapped. But Jasper took no offense. 

“Fine, would you rather I say ‘have the hots for’?” he pushed. “Or maybe someone you _fancy_? Or infatuated - ”

“Ohh, good word,” Miller praised.

“Thank you,” Jasper told him, tipping his head. “Or maybe - ”

“For fuck’s sake,” Murphy grumbled.

"Hey you've dished so much shit to us over the years, it's about time we get to turn it around on you," Octavia ribbed.

“No no, I like this. I feel like I’ve missed so much,” she told them, urging Jasper, causing a bright smile to bloom across his face.

Bellamy shot her a smile of his own and she got lost in the brilliance of it for a moment, until she noticed the circles under his eyes and the way his shoulders dropped slightly probably from his exhaustion. She briefly considered shooing them all away, but she also knew he was enjoying himself, being surrounded by his family after what he’d gone through. So she let them talk for a while longer, eating and drinking and laughing.

Clarke could feel the tension ebb from her muscles the longer they were all talking, allowing the feeling of being on edge and on guard constantly over the past few weeks to wither away. She had to consciously remind herself that she was safe, and home, and while they still had a lot to figure out about where they would go from there, she let herself have at least this night to not worry about it.

Something had to be done about Ontari. She wasn’t sure what the options were, still not fully versed on grounder traditions and the passing - or transferring? - of the Flame or if that was even possible. But throughout the past few weeks, the level of brutality and viciousness that Ontari displayed to everyone who wasn’t Azgeda, was intolerable. She was even going to release McCreary after hearing what had happened to her.

But she had no idea how Bellamy would react to her anger or her desire to pursue justice, knowing that most grounder clans held their Heda in high regard, regardless of whether they were deemed a quality leader or not. And she knew Luna didn’t want anything to do with anything even resembling war. Not that Clarke really wanted a war either though. It was all very confusing and made her head spin.

So for the moment she tried to let go of all of that and let it be tomorrow’s problem. Besides, there was a man sitting not too far away that kept looking at her like she was the only one in the room and she’d much rather focus on him.

***

Bellamy couldn’t keep his eyes off of her. From the moment he’d woken up all he wanted was to be around her. He’d come so close to death, so close to never being able to love her, kiss her, hold her ever again and he didn’t want to waste a second, even if it caused him pain. Everything seemed brighter and more alive now that she was home.

He was beginning to wonder what it was like before she arrived in their village because he honestly couldn’t remember. 

“Hey, O, did you go see Mom at all? I should probably let her know I’m back,” he asked his sister, the thought having crossed his mind earlier, but he’d forgotten again to check.

“Yeah, I went to see her after we left you and Clarke last night, once we knew you were awake and going to be okay. She’s going to come see you tomorrow morning.”

“She’s coming here?” He could probably count on one hand how many times Aurora had left the peace of her lighthouse to come to the main village. 

“You almost died, Bellamy. The only reason she hasn’t come up yet was because she wanted to give you some space and she needed to be on guard to notify Luna in case our scouts saw any Azgeda warriors following you. But she’s been a nervous wreck.”

“Were there?” he asked, nervous all of a sudden. He doesn’t remember the journey back at all, but he knew they weren’t exactly careful in the haste to get out of Polis. And if they were riding Azgeda stallions with Azgeda supplies, any number of people could have been hunting them.

Plus, he couldn’t even imagine how many of Ontari’s warriors were probably not happy with her decision to let them go at all. It exhausted him just thinking about the extremely thin layer of ice both of their clans were teetering on. Something would give eventually, but he wasn’t sure who would be the final one to break it or when. 

Octavia shook her head. “No. It seems like she really has let you guys go for now.”

“Yeah, for now,” Clarke said under her breath, something flashing in her eyes that made him suddenly very aware of the many _many_ things they needed to talk about. 

He was enjoying the mini-celebration very much - being around his family, safe and loved, would always make him feel better, but his back was aching and eventually he’d had to lean against the table for support. Every little movement reminded him of just how injured and exhausted he still was. 

And just as soon as those thoughts had entered his mind, they seemed to transfer straight to Clarke like she could actually read his mind. “Okay everyone, I think it’s probably best if we get this guy some rest.”

He expected grumbling or protesting, but she’d said it with such authority that instead they all hopped to and cleared the plates and cups, making sure everything was cleaned and Miller threw a few more logs on the fire before they all made their retreat. 

Murphy made a few more insinuations and winked at him before he left, and reminded them that they may want to lock the door before heading to “bed”.

He caught Clarke’s nervous blush and he was sure his own skin was a little redder than it normally was as well. 

Every one of his senses were finely attuned to the woman left in the room, and while the place had been packed with people not five minutes prior, the cabin suddenly felt much fuller with just the two of them. 

Clarke was hovering awkwardly over by the fireplace, her fingers fidgeting with her pants and her teeth worrying her lip. 

“What’s going on?” he asked, eyebrow quirked.

“I don’t - I mean, nothing. Let’s get you up and into bed, do you need help?”

“Clarke,” he said, a little lower, a little more insistent. 

“I mean, I realized I just assumed that I’d be staying here with you and we hadn’t really talked about it. I know we’re married and I know you love me, but - ”

“Okay, before you even finish that thought, stop. I do love you,” he started, gritting his teeth as he stood. “And we are married. And I _want_ to be married to you. It isn’t something I just did to get you out of Polis, it isn’t something I was forced into doing or anything. I want... this to be your home too,” he finished gesturing around. “Besides, I already gave Miller and Jasper your old cabin so you’d have to bunk with Murphy or Raven or one of the guest cabins and Murphy _snores_.”

Clarke snorted.

“Also,” he continued, dropping his voice a little lower and moving closer. He could see her tracking his movements with her eyes, her fingers fidgeting at her sides. The aching and exhaustion that he felt only moments prior giving way to a very different kind of ache. “I may have been out of it for most of our journey back, but I believe a promise was made that included…” he trailed off, finally standing in front of her so close there was hardly any space between them.

She looked up at him with tired eyes. Tired, but keen, waiting for whatever it was he was going to do. He placed one hand on her waist and one on the side of her head, bending down on the other side, his lips on her neck. He placed featherlight kisses all up and down the column and she stood stock still, except for when she craned her neck farther to allow him easier access. He grinned into her skin and felt the shiver that ran through her body. 

He nosed her ear and used his other hand to pull her closer still, their bodies now flush with one another. “... a lot of kissing?” he finished finally and he felt more than heard the small breathy chuckle she released. “I believe you said you’d kiss me until I couldn’t breathe?” he reminded her softly, his lips grazing her ear.

She took a deep breath and finally moved one of her hands, her fingers softly grazing his arm around her waist as they slid up and past his shoulder to his neck until her fingers had found his hair. His skin erupted in goosebumps. He was trying to remain in control, but even the softest of her touches threatened to undo him. 

He pulled back so their lips were barely two inches away from each other and so he could look her in the eyes. She had an amused expression on her face. She leaned up towards him and he held his breath.

“Since you almost stopped breathing for good not all that long ago, I’m not sure kissing you breathless is a good idea right now,” she teased, trying to step out of his embrace and he let out a low groan.

“I’m totally fine, good to go,” he insisted, his arm refusing to let her go far. 

She smiled wide, ear to ear, and the sight of that alone almost knocked the wind out of him. She turned and tried to walk towards the bed, though she couldn’t get far with his arms still around her. “As much as I wish we could…” she trailed off, biting her lip. “Come on, let’s go to bed. We’ll just take it day by day, okay?”

Since she’d turned and his arm hadn’t moved, it was now splayed across her stomach so he used that to bring her flush to him, her back against his chest and he started kissing her neck again. 

“I’m not tired.”

“Yes, you are. And I think the smart thing to do is to wait until you’re more healed.”

He frowned. “You should stop thinking so much.”

“Can’t help it, it’s kind of my thing,” she teased and that time he let her drag him over to the bed, and he sat down on the mattress, becoming more and more excited about the prospect of sleeping on it again. “We should get you changed,” she murmured, more to herself than to him.

“You know, if my clothes are already going to be off…” he trailed off, smirking at her.

“Nice try.” Clarke narrowed her eyes at him and stepped between his legs to help him with his shirt, reaching for the hem. She was driving him crazy and she knew it, but if the dark way her eyes were looking at him, at every sliver of skin that was revealed as his shirt slowly lifted over his head was any indication, she was not completely unaffected.

If she wasn’t ready for anything it’s not like he would push her or hold her to anything she said in that cell when she was trying to keep them all alive, but he also needed her to know that _he_ was ready and that the ball was in her court whenever she wanted it. Wanted him. 

Emotionally ready anyway, he hated admitting even just to himself that his back wounds would indeed be a bit of a hindrance.

She went to find him something to wear and lingered a little too long at the chest that held their clean clothes. “You finding everything okay?” he asked.

She turned back around, one of his long sleeve thermals in her hands. “Shut up, I’m fine.”

“I mean, I’d understand if you weren’t, just look at me,” he taunted, chuckling and her face flushed a little more. She threw the bundle at his chest and he chuckled again.

“Just put it on,” she mumbled and she stood just a foot away with her arms crossed, and a pout on her lips. “And stop looking at me like that,” she ordered.

He was getting to her and he couldn’t help the grin on his face even if he wanted to. “Like what?”

“Like… ” She made a frustrated noise in the back of her throat. She pursed her lips and his eyes flickered down to the movement and back up again. She took a few steps towards him and grabbed the shirt from his hands and started to situate it to help him with it. As she moved her arms up to put it down over his head, he noticed the sliver of skin at her waist and his fingers twitched. Was the skin at her waist softer, warmer, _sweeter_ than the skin at her neck, her cheeks, her jaw, her ear? 

Clarke paused in her movements, her arms hovering the fabric above his head awkwardly. He quirked an eyebrow at her in question.

“Like… that. _Fuck it_ ,” she stammered, tossing the shirt aside and gripping either side of his face in her small hands, her lips crashing onto his. 

He was surprised, not having seriously thought that his teasing would lead anywhere, but the shock lasted only a second before his hand found that sliver at her hips he’d just been staring at, tugging her closer. Their mouths moved against each other like they’d kissed a million times, like they’d already memorized the feel, the weight behind each movement. 

Bellamy matched her passion and intensity with a ferocity of his own. When she couldn’t get any closer, he slid his hands down past her hips and gripped her thighs. Getting the picture, she shifted until she was straddling his lap. Now that she was down closer to his level, he wrapped his arms around her back, his arms so long his hands touched the opposite side of her torso. His fingertips brushed just under her breasts and the first time was an accident, but when a low whine escaped between their mouths, he did it again.

And again. And again. 

Their lips parted and he instantly dipped his head under her chin, knocking her gaze upwards so he could get to her neck, kissing with both his lips and his teeth, enjoying the way he could feel the noises she made reverberate up her throat.

He reached the start of her cleavage, not going too low, but low enough to move her shirt aside just enough to kiss the top of her breasts. She ground down against him, and he stuttered in his movements. “Fuck.”

She laughed breathlessly and he took advantage of the moment and swung her around down on the bed, her hair fanning out when her head hit the pillow. 

She was now lying beneath him, smiling up at him like he was the only one who could ever make her smile like that. However, the quickness of the movement caused his vision to go a little spotty, the pain in his back refusing to be ignored any longer and shooting to the forefront of his mind.

“Fuck,” he said again, for a very different reason this time, cringing and leaning over on top of her. 

“Okay, okay, sit up. Come on, let me see,” Clarke told him soothingly. 

He groaned and adjusted, pulling himself to a sitting position and folding over so she could scoot behind him to see his wounds.

His fury at Ontari renewed. He could be memorizing every inch of Clarke’s body right about now if it weren’t for these damn lashes.

“Okay, a couple of them are bleeding again, but your stitches are still holding. Nothing to worry about, I’m just going to… ” she trailed off, getting off the bed and turning to head towards the sink.

He stopped her, grabbing her wrist gently. “I’m sorry,” he said through the pain.

“You don’t have anything to apologize for,” she said, shaking her head and bringing his hand up to her lips to kiss. “We have the rest of our lives for this,” she smirked at him.

“Still won’t be long enough,” he told her, completely serious. He was certain he’d never tire of kissing her or ever feel sated enough. “Give me like 24 hours, I’ll be good.”

She laughed at his insistence, at his refusal to go longer than a day before they could get back to it. In no time at all, she was back over to him with a damp towel and more bandages. She situated herself behind him, hands soft and gentle as she uncovered the wounds that had reopened and cleaned and rebandaged them. He let his head hang, and concentrated on her movements and feel of her hands instead of the sting. The energy he had felt only a few minutes prior was ebbing from his body and he could feel himself losing the battle to stay awake.

“ - llamy?” he heard her ask, and he hadn’t even realized she’d been trying to get his attention.

“Mhm?” 

She chuckled a little and he felt her fingertips on his sides where there were no marks, drifting up and leaving goosebumps in their wake. He inhaled deeply, enjoying the sensation, letting it swallow the pain. She scooted a little closer to him from behind, still being careful not to touch his wounds, but enough to where she could wrap her hands around his chest and he could feel her lips on his bare shoulder. Bellamy closed his eyes and when he started nodding off, he felt her chuckle and her lips at his ear. 

“Let’s get you laid down before you actually fall asleep and fall off the bed,” Clarke said softly. One of his hands flew up to hers still on his chest, holding her there. “I won’t go far,” she promised. “I’m just going to put another log on the fire and get your shirt for you.” 

He shook his head. “I don’t need it.”

He could practically hear her frown. “Are you sure? It’s freezing,” she pointed out. 

“I run warm, remember? I’m fine.”

She hummed. “Okay, I’m wearing it then. Because I don’t have all those muscles to help keep me warm.”

“You can use mine if you’d like,” he told her, turning a little bit to smirk at her. His eyes were barely open, but he still caught her blush and her eye roll as she moved away from behind him to grab the discarded thermal she’d thrown at him off the floor. 

Clarke stood at the end of the bed, her back to him, and took off her own shirt tossing it on the floor and his mouth went completely dry at the sight of her. He still wasn’t able to _fully_ appreciate it, but the fact that even just her bare back did things to him was a sight that he knew would be committed to memory for the rest of his life. 

She quirked an eyebrow at him over her shoulder and he didn’t even try acting shy or hiding the fact that he was openly staring at her. Once his shirt was over her head and arms, a thousand times too big at least, coming down to half way down her thighs, she gave him a small upturn of her lips and reached under the shirt to pull her pants down and off, kicking them to the side. He shook his head at her, the image of her in nothing except her undergarments and his shirt doing a whole lotta things to his own body that he was sure would be worth setting back his healing a day or two in order to satisfy. 

She only smiled in response.

He groaned loudly. “I don’t think I’ve ever hated Ontari more than in this moment.”

She was over by the fireplace where she was crouched, throwing a few more logs on the fire, so that it would last and warm them a while longer. He expected a chuckle, or a laugh, or even a hum of agreement, but she surprised him when she finally responded, her voice low and serious.

“Me too.”

Bellamy scooted back and laid down on his side. She joined him soon after, slipping under the pelts and wiggling close. He let his hand drift down to rest on her waist, the soft fabric of his thermal riding up so that it barely covered her butt.

He spent an embarrassing amount of time wondering if he could let his hand drift down there.

When she was finally settled into him, her gaze wandering up to his, he noticed how dark her eyes had gotten. And it wasn’t just because of their kissing or position, it was dark like a thunderstorm, the blues of her irises more slate than he’d ever seen them. She was conflicted about something and combining it with her response about Ontari, it wasn’t hard to draw the obvious conclusion. 

“Clarke, are you okay?” It was getting harder and harder to speak coherently with his mind starting to shut down, begging for rest, but he held on. 

She huffed. “No, to be honest, I’m not. I’m really fucking angry,” she told him and he used the hand on her waist to rub circles with his thumb. Tears started gathering in her eyes. “I just, I hate her. I hate her on behalf of all of fucking humanity. Someone like that should never - ” she stopped herself, swallowing hard. “Nevermind,we can talk about it another time, you need to sleep. You look like a zombie.”

He furrowed his brows, “What the hell is a zombie?”

She let out a laugh, lighter than the previous ones. “It’s a - you know what? It’s not important. Sleep, Bell, we’ll talk another time.”

“Okay, and more kissing?” he asked, eyes already closed, but he used the last of his energy to give her a small smile. 

“Yeah, always more kissing,” she responded, voice cracking a little. She kissed his lips lightly, and when she pulled back he could taste the saltiness of her tears left behind. He wanted to talk some more, reassure her of whatever was going through that brilliant mind of hers, that they’d figure out, that they were okay. But his muscles no longer allowed him to do anything but breathe and drift off to the smell of her hair in his nose and the length of her body pressed against his.

***

Clarke waited until his breathing evened out and his mouth slacked before she allowed herself to burrow into him, reminding herself that he was here, he was alive, he was going to be fine. She said it over and over again in her mind like a mantra.

It kept her from spiraling, from doing something rash. She’d always been the cautious, careful one, the one that thought through everything before she acted. Even if the decision she made was less than ideal, she always thought it through first before she sucked it up and did it. She’s had to make countless decisions since she left the safety of the Ark to take a chance on the ground, countless decisions that were awful, that no one else wanted to make.

She did it because it was what was best. She bore the decisions so no one else had to.

But Clarke was struggling. She was struggling _hard_ with not extracting herself from Bellamy’s - from her _husband’s_ \- arms to ride a horse back to Polis and take care of Ontari herself. Even if she lost her own life in the process, which would most likely happen, Ontari would never be able to hurt another innocent person like she’d been doing. 

She heard so many stories while in Polis of Ontari’s ruthlessness, her brutality. The way she murdered without blinking, the way she insisted on complete, unwavering loyalty and obedience. There was no room for negotiation, no room for any consideration. Children, women, it didn’t matter. Her bloodlust for those who refused to kneel or refused to obey knew no limit.

She’d let McCreary go, didn’t even care about his actions towards her. She’d had Bellamy flogged because he was trying to get her out of a lifetime with Azgeda. Because he’d used Luna’s influence to force Ontari’s hand. 

And then there was Luna. What little interaction Clarke had with her proved her to be just and peaceful, but firm and steady. Luna would have made a great Commander. One that unwavering loyalty wouldn’t have been a hard thing to give. 

If Clarke was going to even _think_ about ending Ontari’s rule - one way or another - she’d need Luna. 

That was easier said than done though, since Luna wanted nothing to do with being Commander. And she was apparently incredibly resolute in that decision.

Clarke buried her nose into Bellamy’s chest even further, so beyond grateful that he’d decided to sleep without a shirt, even though she wasn’t sure how he managed to stay warm and not get frostbite from the winter weather. Since the temperature was meticulously controlled on the Ark, her body never actually experienced cold like this. She hoped it wouldn’t be this way every winter, that she would acclimate eventually.

Even in his sleep, he seemed to sense that she was cold because the arm that he had wrapped around her pulled her closer still, though she wasn’t sure how much tighter their bodies could be pressed together, since there was hardly any room at all left between them. His hand drifted lower, sitting just above her ass, his fingers grazing her underwear where her shirt had rucked up. 

Clarke smiled into his skin and a shiver ran through her body that had nothing to do with the cold. She wanted him, every cell of her body and her soul wanted him, and it was nothing short of miraculous that she’d been able to stop where they were headed earlier. It was too soon, he was too injured, but every nerve ending in her body thrummed for it. 

She finally allowed herself to close her eyes and drift off and though her dreams were anything but good, she was in her safe place, her heart finally where it had ached to be for weeks, so they weren’t quite as paralyzing or suffocating as they normally were. She was home.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Not a ton happened in this one, I know, but some downtime was in order for them I think! 
> 
> Everyone stay safe and healthy and thank you for reading!
> 
> I should have the next update sometime Saturday!
> 
> ❤
> 
> If you want to check out my tumblr or the moodboard that was so wonderfully made for this fic, click [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488)!


	24. Chapter 24

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone!  
> So I know Ao3 is having some email maintenance done and some of you might've missed the last one, so for those of you this applies to, you get two in a row! If you aren't sure, make sure to double check you're on the right chapter so you don't end up getting lost!
> 
> Thanks everyone for all your encouragment and support as always, you all are AMAZING! I'm so glad there are people still loving this and haven't gotten bored with me yet!
> 
> Have a great week, and I'll probably get the next one up around Thursday! ❤

Bellamy knew it was well past morning by the time his eyelids finally opened, the light of the day making itself known even through his closed eyes. 

But the other thing he noticed was that he was waking up alone. Which, he supposed wasn’t completely unexpected. Clarke wasn’t as injured as he was, though she was at the very least as exhausted as him, but still, she was never one to idle for long. So if she awoke before him, she was probably taking care of something or someone. 

He groaned loudly as he sat up, feeling the ache in his back, though it was nowhere near as bad as it was when he’d fallen asleep and he wondered just how long he’d been out. He finally blinked his eyes fully open and that was when he noticed a familiar figure sitting in a chair near the fireplace, his worn copy of the _Illiad_ open in front of her. 

“ _You haven’t tired of this book yet, son?_ ” his mother asked him in Trig, clearly already aware he was awake without needing to look around. 

“ _I’ll never tire of it, Mom. How long did I sleep? Where’s Clarke?_ ” 

“It’s just about the end of lunch,” she told him, switching to English. “I showed up about breakfast time, and Clarke was tending to the fire. I had passed the clinic on the way over and Harper had an influx of _haknes_ patients this morning, so I told her I’d look after you if she wanted to go see if she could help.”

Bellamy sighed, grabbing the discarded thermal Clarke had been wearing the night before off the end of the bed to put on, aware that he was half naked in front of his mother. It wasn’t a big deal, not like she hadn’t seen his chest before, but the fact that he was still in bed, where he and Clarke almost… in any case, he’d feel better wearing a shirt. 

It still smelled like her, Clarke, her lavender soap mixing with the pine of his and the ever present scent of salt water blending with the two. 

He groaned again as he worked to get it over his head before his mother _tsked_ at him, and walked over, gently helping work it down over his back. 

“Thanks,” he mumbled, only slightly embarrassed that he couldn’t get dressed without help. But his mother simply smiled and stepped back, giving him space to swing his legs over the edge. He stood up, stretching and welcoming the slight ache from his joints that indicated he’d slept hard. He felt much more rested than he had in weeks, though that wasn’t really a surprise since he was home, Clarke was home, and she’d spent the night in his arms.

“She stopped off to get food for you before she left though, with instructions that I make you eat at least something,” she told him, raising an eyebrow. “Good woman, that _houmon_ of yours,” she added.

_Wife_. So she knew they were able to get married after all in Polis. He had hoped he’d get to be the one to tell her, but it seemed O had beat him to it. Or Murphy. Really, either had the opportunity and were likely to spill the beans first. 

Aurora already knew that was the plan, he’d gotten to at least be the one to tell her _that_ before he left for Polis in the first place. She was so happy for him, but he knew she was worried about Ontari and what would happen. She trusted him, trusted that he was making the right decision and she supported him. 

And now he could see that she was trying to remain stoic, the aura of motherly concern on her features, but her lips quirked up on one side like she was trying to hide a smile. 

“Yes, I can see you already heard. It worked, we got her out of there and I - we… yeah we’re married, Mom.”

“ _I was so worried about you. And when O told me what happened after you’d gotten back_ … I’m just so relieved you both are safe. _Spechou_ , my son, and my new daughter,” she congratulated him, stepping forward again to hug him lightly, being careful of the marks littering his back. “Come, let’s eat.”

\------------------------

A couple hours later Clarke still hadn’t gotten back yet. Bellamy paced around a little, not out of worry for Clarke, he knew she was fine, just busy with the _haknes_ that ran through the camp this time of year. He was more worried about the residents of his village, the people he was in charge of, to protect, to serve. Just because he was injured didn’t mean he was absolved of that responsibility.

And he knew there was a lot Clarke was going through, a lot on her mind, and he was itching to talk to her about it. Not at the expense of the people who needed her healing, but while she was taking care of everyone else; he wanted to be the one to take care of _her_ , though he was sure she would probably say the same thing about _him_.

They still hadn’t even talked about what happened to her during the three weeks she was in Polis. 

Or about the fact that they were married now and what that meant for them. 

It made him dizzy thinking about all the many many things they needed to talk about. Her tone the night before had bothered him, the darkness, the anger he knew she was holding onto. He wasn’t quite sure what she was hoping to do to alleviate it, but something wasn’t sitting right with him and he was just about out of patience with just sitting there waiting for her to return. 

When after a little while longer she still hadn’t returned, he started going stir crazy and despite his mother’s protests of his pacing around and not resting, he decided to take matters into his own hands. He went over to the hook by the door to pull on his coat and boots. 

“ _Where do you think you’re going_?” his mother asked after watching him wince while pulling on his coat. 

“I can’t just sit here while my people are out there suffering. I haven’t been here in days, haven’t checked to make sure everything is running smoothly, or that our food stores are still stocked.”

“Bellamy Blake. You’re only responsibility right now is - ”

“Still to my people,” he told her, digging his heels in. He didn’t often stand up like that to his mother, but he was no longer going to stare at these four walls. He softened a little and walked up to her. “ _I know you love me and are worried about my healing. I assure you, I am feeling much better today. But please don’t ask me to just sit here._ ”

She sighed and rolled her eyes a little, this small woman impossibly imposing. If she asked him to stay, he wouldn’t hesitate to listen and would respect her role as his mother. “Fine,” she acquiesced. “But you will have to answer to your wife when she finds out you slipped out of here,” she told him. “I don’t want her getting mad at me the first day as her mother in law,” she said with a smirk.

He chuckled. “I will speak to Clarke. I’ll be headed that way eventually anyway,” he assured her. “You two will be fine. Thank you, I love you.” He kissed his mother’s forehead as he passed her.

“Uh, huh. _Love you too, son._ ”

He started regretting leaving the warmth of the cabin a few minutes down the path. His back was fine, stung, but it was the sort of pain he was beginning to be familiar with and could push aside for the most part, as long as he didn’t strain it too much. 

But the cold started seeping into his bones, down to his toes, despite two layers of socks he wore. He first checked in with Lincoln and Anya to make sure the village was still safe and there weren’t any issues while he was gone, but he’d been shooed away politely (well, Lincoln was polite, Anya was her usual blunt self), insisting they had things under control and there was nothing for him to concern himself with for now.

Then after heading to the kitchen to check on their stock of food, where both Maya and Jasper gave him disapproving looks for being up and about, and he was assured the stores were still intact and full, he started for the path towards the clinic.

About halfway to the clinic, he had to stop against a tree near Clarke’s old cabin, just to catch his breath. HIs wounds weren’t too bad, but he could still feel his strength hadn’t fully returned yet. He hated feeling like this, like he couldn’t fulfill his duty to his village.

Still, he couldn’t bring himself to regret any of his actions that had led him here.

“Bellamy?” 

He looked up from where he’d had his head hung low, to see Raven and Murphy approaching. 

“Hey. What’re you two up to?”

“Bringing reinforcements to the frontline,” Raven told him, holding up a basket with a cloth over top. “I was in with Harper and Clarke getting my leg checked out - ”

“ - because she was an idiot who tried climbing a group of rocks up by the dunes,” Murphy pointed out, crossing his arms.

“Well I wouldn’t have had to climb them if you hadn’t thrown my disc up there!” she insisted.

“I was testing it out!”

Raven scoffed and Murphy smiled and Bellamy had a feeling he’d never fully understand whatever relationship they had.

“Okay, okay, you’re right. I shouldn’t have thrown it up there,” Murphy finally gave in. “I’m sorry.”

“And maybe I should have let you climb them yourself when you offered instead of trying to use my useless leg.”

“It’s not useless,” Murphy insisted, reaching out for her hand.

Raven’s hard expression softened a little. 

Bellamy hadn’t ever really seen Murphy like this with anyone, let alone someone who was almost more hard headed than he was. But Raven was a force to be reckoned with, someone who would call Murphy on his shit and not back down. 

“ _Anyway,_ ” Raven restarted after a moment when she realized she was actually in the middle of telling Bellamy something. “I was in the clinic and they had a wave of people come in with the flu. They’d already been in there all morning so we offered to go get some food for them.”

“Then we were under strict instructions to go check on you,” Murphy finished.

“I’m fine,” he tried waving them off, but they exchanged a look of disbelief.

“Uh huh. Then why are you hanging over here by a tree… in the cold?”

“Just got a little winded. Stopped to catch my breath.”

Murphy narrowed his eyes. “And you’re as white as a sheet,” he commented. “Come on. Let us at least help you the rest of the way. You should get checked out anyway.”

He finally sighed and gave in. “Yeah, okay.”

He put his arm around Murphy’s shoulder and Murphy grabbed hold of it since he couldn’t exactly put his arm around Bellamy’s back.

They approached the clinic and he could hear voices from inside. Raven went ahead of them and opened the door. “Hey, I come bearing gifts!”

He heard Clarke’s voice of relief. “Oh thank fuck, I’m _starving_.” 

“Seriously, I think I could eat our entire winter stores right now,” he heard Harper agree.

“Also… presenting…” Murphy announced next to him. “Your husband who tried to make the trek all the way over here by himself.” Bellamy shot him a glare while being guided around Raven. 

“Don’t call him an idiot Murphy,” he heard Clarke say. She rushed up to him, cheeks flushed, hair sticking out of her braid in various places.

“What! I didn’t say that!” Murphy refuted.

Clarke glared at Bellamy. “Hmm, oh... that must’ve been me,” she said sarcastically, eyes narrowed. “Bell, are you okay?” He saw Harper turn her head too.

“Yes, I’m _fine_ , everyone,” he insisted. “Just a little out of breath. Stop fussing,” he told her, knocking her hands out of the way a little. “And missing my wife. I heard the clinic was busy and wanted to make sure you guys had everything you needed.”

“You _should_ be resting,” she chided, but there was no weight behind it. “Come, sit over here. I’m just finishing up with Adele.”

He sat up a little and snapped his gaze to the woman on the bed in the corner. Adele was Madi’s mother. And sure enough the small brunette was sitting quietly next to her mother’s bed. He sat in the chair Clarke had indicated for him and watched her walk over to them and run various checks. Madi’s eyes darted attentively around, bouncing back and forth between Adele and Clarke. Adele was incredibly pale and her face was scrunched in pain. He felt awful for the child, her father had died of _haknes_ the year Adele was pregnant with Madi and now she was watching her mother go through the same illness.

Then he was finally able to get a good look at the bustle of the clinic. Unfortunately it wasn’t unexpected. This was about what it was like during winter and he was so glad that Clarke was here to help them this year. 

The fire was roaring in the corner of the clinic, a pot of water heating and boiling. Raven bounded over to Monty, her ponytail swishing behind her like normal, to help him with what looked like some kind of contraption that he’d never seen before. But they were feeding red seaweed into it so it probably had something to do with that.

Clarke finished and tweaked Madi’s nose, crouching down and saying something that Madi nodded furiously to. The girl jumped up out of her chair and ran over to Raven and Monty, who looked down at her, giving her a jar of something. 

“Okay, what’s going on?” Clarke asked him as she approached him. “Hey,” she added, leaning over and giving him a kiss, with a hand in his hair. 

“Is Adele going to be alright?” he asked, worried and Clarke turned to look at the woman as well, brow furrowed. 

“I hope so. I’m trying to keep Madi busy for now. She’s been helping with fetching supplies and bringing water to the patients,” she told him. Clarke looked nervous all of sudden. “But she dropped one, tripping over a loose nail in the floor - ”

“Loose nail? Where? I’ll take a look at it - ” 

Clarke held up a hand. “Miller actually took care of it already. That’s not the point.” She stepped closer and started to look around, making sure no one was overhearing. “Madi cut her finger on some broken glass.”

_Oh._

His eyes flashed to Madi, and he noticed the small wrap around her thumb. 

“You have a nightblood in the village?” Clarke whispered. “I thought they were all supposed to be sent to Polis for training as soon as they turned five?”

“They are. But Adele… when Madi was born, our healer at the time informed me that we had a nightblood born. It was my first year as the village’s leader, so I - I went to Adele, I hadn’t had to deal with this before.” It wasn’t something he’d deliberately kept from Clarke, being Sonchahou’s healer she was bound to find out eventually and he trusted Clarke implicitly, it just hadn’t come up before. “She didn’t want Madi anywhere near Polis or the Conclave or the Flame. I can’t say I blame her; it’s brutal and her husband had died not long before that.”

“Of course, that’s awful.”

“So I told her that she didn’t have to send Madi - that I’d protect her if it came to it. Any time Titus sent scouts out to the village to take a census or collect any nightbloods, we’d hide her either with my mother or in the forest with Lincoln.”

“Got it. Okay. Thankfully I don’t think anyone else noticed the cut, so she should be in the clear. That would explain why she freaked out though.” She shook her head a little. “Okay, let’s check out your back. Madi!” she called.

Madi bounded over to them. “ _Heyo_ Bellamy!”

“Hey Mads, I heard your mom is sick. Sorry, kiddo,” he told her sweetly. Madi glanced back at Adele. 

“Thanks. Clarke said she is working really hard to make sure she is okay.”

“I’m sure she is. Clarke is pretty awesome, huh?” he asked, eyes flashing over to Clarke briefly before returning to Madi. He heard her chuckle a little. 

“Yeah, Clarke is _amazing_ ,” Madi gushed. “She’s even letting me help around here! I’m going to be a healer like her one day.”

“Well, the job is yours, sweetheart.”

“Really?!” She smiled wide at him, making him grin and laugh.

“Sure. You work hard, learn a lot, then one day you absolutely can work here in the clinic.”

“Thanks!” Madi exclaimed and rushed into his chest, wrapping her arms around him. It stung a little, her small hand on his wounds, but it was manageable so when Clarke’s face twisted in concern, he shook his head that he was fine.

“Okay, okay, you two. Madi, I need to change Bellamy’s wraps. Can you go get me a damp cloth, and some of that cream that Raven and Monty are working on?”

“Right away!” Madi rushed off towards their friends, gathering the supplies Clarke requested.

“You’re good with her,” Clarke murmured as she moved behind him to look at his back. He felt her arms helping him out of his jacket and then at the hem of his shirt, lifting it a little. He winced a little with the movement. “Sorry.” She pressed a light kiss to the back of his neck.

“Yeah, well, I’ve known her since she was born. Got a bit of a soft spot for her, I guess,” he told her, trying not to flinch as Clarke took a few of the bandages off. 

“Hmm, it couldn’t just be because you’re good with children. I still remember the way you were at the bonfire, Bellamy,” she told him absently, more focused on dabbing lightly with the damp cloth Madi had brought her. 

“I’m too grouchy to be a kid person,” he joked. 

“Of course. Your love of children was definitely not one of the first things that made me fall for you,” she teased back.

He glanced at her over his shoulder. “It was, huh?” he asked with a smirk. 

“Yes,” she told him, forcing his shoulders to face back forward. He could help the chuckle that ran through him. “Now sit still while I finish.”

“How’s it looking?”

“Better than I expected, honestly. I expected you to have ripped open a couple of them walking all around the village.”

“I didn’t say I walked all around the village.”

Her head popped into view on his side. “You’re really going to try to tell me that you came straight here without checking on other things first?” she asked, one eyebrow raised challenging him to dispute her claim.

He pursed his lips, trying to figure how to answer in a way that got him the least in trouble. “I just - fine. I may have visited a couple other places first.”

“That’s what I thought.”

Bellamy sighed. “I’m fine, Clarke. Just tired.”

Clarke sighed too. “I know, I’m sorry. I shouldn’t be on your case all the time, you’re a grown man who can go where he likes.” She finished cleaning and rebandaging and helped him put his shirt down and his jacket back on. “I’m just so - you know what? Nevermind, we can talk later. Thank you for coming over here. Try to take it easy for me, though, okay?”

He knew there were things she wasn’t saying. It was clouding her mind last night and he saw it again today. Her mind was constantly moving a mile a minute and he could make guesses, but he knew she needed to process through it all before she could talk about it. 

He’d be here when she was ready.

“So did I hear you ask Madi for some kind of cream?” he asked, changing the subject. 

She perked up a little. “Yeah, Roan had some stored in the horse’s saddle bags. It’s what I used on your back before we left Polis. So this morning I told Raven and Monty about it. I remember we had cream like that on the Ark, but I hadn’t seen anything like it here. They remembered it too and they’ve been hard at work all day on trying to get something like that going - using lanolin, I think? I used all of it on your back but kept the tube for them to crack open and study.”

“Wow, they’ve only been at work on it for a day?”

“Well, a couple days, I gave it to them after you woke up the first time.”

“Still, impressive that they already have some to test. Which makes _me_ the test subject, hmm?” he teased.

“Yep. Side-effect of being the healer’s husband I guess,” she quipped. 

He loved the way she said husband. 

“I guess I can live with that.”

She smiled widely, the kind that reached her eyes and he guessed that she liked saying it as much as he loved hearing it. 

“Okay, get out of here, I need to go finish helping Harper. Murphy!” she called. Murphy looked up from where he was leaning against the counter next to Raven. He pushed off and walked over to them.

“You bellowed, _flougada_?” he asked.

“You mind going back with Bell?” 

“Clarke - ” Bellamy started protesting.

“I know, I know, you’re fine. Just humor me, please?” she asked, bending over to give him a quick kiss. 

“Fine.”

“So I’m in charge of Bellamy?” Murphy asked a little too excitedly.

“No,” they both answered at once.

Murphy harrumphed and rolled his eyes. 

“Okay. I don’t know when I’ll be back,” Clarke told him. “I don’t want to leave Harper alone with the clinic this busy.”

He waved her off. “I’ll be fine, don’t worry about me, I promise not to overdo it,” he assured her. He knew if she was worried about him, that it would just stress her out when she had other things to focus on. So he’d do his best to tamper down his restless nature.

“Thank you,” she gave him another kiss and then she was off, ready to go save someone else. 

“Eat something!” he called out, as he’d remembered what she said when they first arrived and how the basket of food Raven had brought still remained untouched on the counter. She waved behind her, as much acknowledgement as he was probably going to get.

“Alright Murphy, let’s go,” he mumbled, getting to his feet. 

“That’s it, big guy, you’ve got it,” Murphy mocked. 

“Shut up, Murphy,” he growled. 

“Whatever,” Murphy said under his breath. “I still think I’m in charge.”

Bellamy just shook his head and rolled his eyes, but he was thankful he was with him anyway, since the journey back _was_ a little harder than the one before.

***

Clarke barely saw the inside of her and Bellamy’s cabin for the next two weeks. Her and Harper ended up sleeping mostly in the clinic, either in the tub or a spare chair, making sure the fire never went out and anyone who needed help had them readily available. They took watch shifts, except when there was too much work to do, then they were both awake all through the night.

During the day when Monty or Jasper was there to help and provide back up, they’d finally get a break from those four walls, taking turns leaving the clinic to either do house calls on those who were sick, but not sick enough to need constant attention. 

Clarke always made it a point to check up on Bellamy, who had mostly healed by now. The thin lines of pink skin across didn’t even need wrapping or cream anymore and he was getting dressed on his own without wincing. She’d been able to take the stitches out of the deeper ones a week ago, but they were sensitive and she made sure he knew to still not do anything strenuous, though she knew most days he still pushed that boundary.

Clarke insisted he stay away from the clinic as much as possible, not wanting to expose him to any of the virus that had seemed to make its way around the village practically overnight. Miller had even contracted it, though it was a fairly mild case and he was back on his feet within a couple days. Adele had recovered a few days after she’d arrived, and as glad as Clarke was that Madi could go home with her mother, a part of her was going to miss that little girl folded into her side as she slept every night. Whether Clarke slept in the tub or the chair, Madi was always curled right around her. 

And though she tried to get him to avoid the clinic, Bellamy was still determined to at least check up on them once a day as well, and the more selfish side of her was glad he wasn’t listening to her. They’d spent enough time apart and her heart ached to be around him. 

She was also checking up on Octavia and her baby, though she made sure to wash up before heading to see her. O was about to her second trimester now, and it was evident that she was feeling better and that her energy level was back, because she was bouncing around the village like she usually did, instead of spending most of her time resting or throwing up. The baby’s heartbeat was strong, and so was its mama, so Clarke was much less concerned. And because Octavia was so slender, she’d even started showing a little, a fact that she’d burst into the clinic a couple days ago to announce excitedly, throwing up her shirt and standing to the side so they could see it. 

O was even doing so well that Clarke told her she could start exercising again and working out at the sparring arena, provided she was careful and not take any heavy blows. Octavia looked like Clarke had just handed her a present she was so excited. Then she’d mentioned that Murphy had told her that Clarke was decent at archery and there were a few targets set up in a range near the arena if she wanted to check it out.

Clarke hadn’t so much as picked up her bow and quiver since she’d been back. She’d been too busy making sure Bellamy pulled through, then the rest of the flu patients. The idea that she’d get to clear her mind and focus on taking out some of her frustrations and rage that she’d been just barely successful at pushing down over the past week and a half was tempting.

Not to mention the idea of releasing some of the tension she felt low in her body every time Bellamy looked at her. Now that he was healed and there wasn’t anything stopping them from _finally_ having sex, she could feel her nerves and blood practically pumping with anticipation and want.

Which is how, when they were down to only one patient, finally, and Harper practically kicked her in the ass to go get some fresh air, she found herself back at the cabin, bundling up and grabbing her bow and quiver and headed out towards the arena. 

Bellamy was in a meeting with Trikru for the next hour or so, giving them an update on what happened in Polis. Trikru and Louwoda Kliron were the two clans they were closest with, so it made sense that he’d start with them. Primarily, he needed to inform them of their marriage, since any leader in the coalition’s union was a big deal and had the potential to affect alliances.

Of course, that wasn’t why they got married, but it was still one of those things he needed to take care of. 

Plus, it was an opportunity to gauge how the clans would react to the change of plans, since they'd all also been in Polis for her wedding to Azgeda’s Prince instead of a Floukru leader. He wanted to inform them _before_ Ontari had the chance to.

Now that a couple weeks had passed, Clarke found her initial blind fury towards Ontari easing, and a more righteous anger setting in. She was still furious about what they went through, about the countless innocent people who suffered needlessly at their leader’s hands, but she knew that riding back to Polis half cocked and bent on kicking Ontari off her precious tower wasn’t the way to go about bringing her to justice.

She jogged the whole way to the range to keep her body temperature up. Clarke was doing better with the weather, or at least doing a better job of managing her body’s reactions to it. It was colder now than it was when they’d gotten back, but still not quite as cold as Polis had been. They’d had intermittent snow flurries, but nothing sticking to the ground yet. The Ark was scheduled to come down in about a month, give or take a few weeks, but if there was anything Clarke had learned about schedules, it was that they very rarely went according to plan, so she couldn’t really count on that being an accurate timeline.

Especially if her parents and everyone else they’d left behind thought they were all dead.

The first release of her arrow from her bow took her breath with it. And each one after that took another piece of her, the target being slammed with each of her emotions that she’d been pushing down lately, the anger, regret, guilt, anticipation, fear, anxiety, aggression. Each arrow easing the tumultuous feelings. It was slow going at first and she missed her mark many times before she fell into a rhythm. She was by no means an expert and had to work to remember what Roan had taught her.

It’d been a good hour and a half since she’d begun, releasing arrow after arrow after arrow, taking her time and only breaking to retrieve them from the target and try again. The light from the little sun they had started to wane, taking whatever small amount of warmth it gave off.

Her limbs were trembling with tired, sore muscles. She shook it off though, deciding on one last round through her quiver before packing it in. She picked up the arrow, loaded the bow and took aim, the shaft of the arrow lined up, the fletching tickling her cheek.

“So is it my face you're aiming at?” a voice asked close behind her, right at her ear, and Clarke let go prematurely, missing the target completely. 

Bellamy put a hand on the bare skin of her waist, slipping it under her layers and she leaned into it. Anybody else and she’d have broken their nose with her elbow in surprise. But as it was, she knew that voice better than her own and didn’t feel even an ounce of wariness. It’d been too long since she’d been touched, even casually like that, and she loved how his palm was like fire, blazing a trail through her whole body.

She shouldered her bow and twisted around into his arms, both of his hands on her waist then. She looked up in Bellamy’s waiting eyes, alight with mirth and amusement.

“You make me miss my target again and yeah, it’ll be your face I’ll be imagining on that target instead,” she told him, playfully smacking him in the chest. He grinned and ducked his head, searing their lips together in a kiss.

“Your skin is like ice,” he told her, scrunching his nose.

“The air is basically ice,” she countered. “And why _would_ your face be the one I’m aiming at? Should it be?” she asked, curious.

He let out a bark of laughter. “No, you were just very lost in thought. And I’ve been busy.”

“I’ve been busy too,” she pointed out. “You out there whacking things with your sword pretending it’s me?”

“Point taken.”

“Not everything is your responsibility, you know,” she reminded him, reaching up on her tiptoes to give him one more peck before turning around and taking aim one more time.

“Mhmm,” he answered in that way he did when he didn’t agree with her, but also didn’t want to keep talking about it. 

Clarke released the arrow, it hitting her mark that time and she glanced back at him with a smug look on her face.

“I haven’t really gotten to see you use that thing yet,” he furrowed his brows a little at it, even though his voice revealed pride.

“Well, I had to practice something while in Polis. Couldn’t just sit around all day,” she told him, taking aim and firing off another one.

“You haven’t really talked about what went on while you were there.”

She took a deep breath. “There’s not much to talk about. I played dumb, like I was excited to become Azgeda and that I wanted to learn their ways and traditions before the wedding in order to stall.” She hesitated before she said the next part, knowing he wouldn’t really like it. “Roan decided to teach me to fight and use different weapons a couple days after… ” she trailed off.

Bellamy narrowed his eyes and took a step back. “After what?”

“After I had to kill an Azgeda warrior that tried to kill me.”

“ _What?!_ ”

She stepped forward and grabbed his hand, which had started to shake. “Look, it was bound to happen, most of Azgeda didn’t exactly like me and didn’t want anything to do with Skaikru. But I freaked out a little, couldn’t calm myself down so Roan offered to help me learn to get my aggression out differently.”

Bellamy closed his eyes and she could practically _feel_ the war brewing within him.

“Bell, I’m fine, okay? Everything is fine. I’m here, you’re here,” she reassured him, putting a hand to his cheek. He twisted his face so he could kiss her palm and he covered her hand with his own. 

“Okay.”

“You sure?”

He took a deep breath. “Yeah. If you say you’re okay. I’ll… I’ll believe you. You can take care of yourself, I know that. It’s over and I just… ” he trailed off. He bit his lip as he opened his eyes, clearly trying to stop himself from overreacting to something that happened weeks ago. Something he couldn’t change however hard he tried. She knew he still struggled with guilt over her being there in the first place.

“You just want to hit something?” she guessed.

His lips twitched to the side. “Maybe.”

“Hmm.” Clarke looked around, stepping back a little and taking her bow and quiver off her shoulders, setting them gently against a tree.

He watched her, clearly confused about where she was going with this. She shrugged her outer layer off, ignoring the biting cold. Once they got going and her blood started pumping she knew she’d warm up and his back should be healed enough for this as long as they weren’t _too_ rough. She just wanted him to get a chance to stretch his muscles a little, since he hadn't been using them much lately.

“What are you doing?” he asked warily.

“Well, instead of bottling it up, work it out,” she told him, stretching in preparation. She was a little nervous, she’d never sparred with Bellamy before and she knew his skills _far_ outweighed what little she’d been able to learn from Octavia and Roan, but she also knew he would never hurt her.

That is, if she could get him to agree to it.

“How?” he asked, still just watching her.

“Isn’t it obvious? Do I need to spell it out?” she asked, stepping up to him, running her hands up his chest to his shoulders, broad and tense. She could feel how tight his muscles were as he stood stock still while she rid him of his jacket. 

“Yeah, actually. I’m not doing anything until I’m absolutely sure of where you’re headed with this,” he told her, eyes looking down at her and his lips quirked up to the side.

In one felled swoop, she hooked and planted her right foot behind his and her arm came up to his chest to knock him off his feet, using the element of surprise and her position to push him back and down to the ground.

But just as he was inches away from the ground, he gripped her elbow and twisted his hips so his legs wrapped around hers and flipped her over onto her back instead, him straddling her from above, which was the position she’d hoped to be in.

_Of course_ he’d taken the brunt of the impact in their fall, so she didn’t actually get hurt, but she could still feel the soreness of her muscles as he sat above her. Overshadowing it however, was him _sitting on top of her_.

Her body was getting all kinds of ideas that were distracting her from what she originally set out to do.

His pupils darkened as he looked down at her, his eyes flashing to her lips before he moved to get off of her, extending a hand to help her up, so she knew his mind was probably on the same thing. She still searched his eyes though to make sure he wasn't covering up any actual pain.

“I’m not going to fight you, Clarke,” he told her definitively, crossing his arms after they were standing again.

“Why not? You need to get some of that aggravation out and I can take it.”

“I know you can.”

“Then what’s the problem?” 

“I’m not sure I can actually force my body to attack you,” he explained.

“Are you afraid that you’d actually hurt me?”

“No.”

“Then _hoz op_ , Blake.”

There was that look again. Not _predatory_ , exactly, he’d never be that way with her. But there was a distinctive edge to his gaze, like he was ready to ravish her, like there was an explosion simmering below the surface of his skin that he was desperately trying to keep from going boom.

She stepped forward towards him and he untangled his arms from his body and held his hands out, not wanting her to catch him off guard again. 

He was watching her carefully stepping when she stepped. She darted forward and spun so that her back was to him, jabbing her elbow back into his solar plexus. When she heard him grunt and double over, she turned to face him again. His hand shot out and grabbed her wrist, spinning her back around again, her arm twisted up behind her back.

“I can’t fight you, Clarke,” he said, low, in her ear.

“Well I can fight you,” she insisted, stomping on his instep and jabbing him in the abdomen again with her elbow and his hand released her wrist, but she twisted the grip, so she had a hold on his shoulder and she took advantage of his position that time to plant one foot on his now bent leg to swing herself up on his back, her ankles locked around him and her arms coming down on his chest from behind, so she was up on his back. She rested her weight on his hips though, so she wasn’t placing too much pressure on his back.

He chuckled as her arms came down, and he cocked his head to the side a bit, his hands coming up to cover hers. “Fine, I give. What now?” 

She dipped her head down and kissed his neck, relishing in the instant goosebumps that popped up on his skin. Her teeth found his ear, tugging lightly.

He let out a noise deep in his throat and his arm swung around to grip her waist, swinging her off his back and in front of him. She lost her grip and was at his mercy as she felt his other arm catch her under her knees and his arm that was around her waist shifted to her neck so now he was holding onto her, bridal style.

She barely caught the smirk on his lips before she was being unceremoniously dropped on the ground with a soft thump, not even realizing that they’d moved to where his jacket was so that she didn’t hit the ground too hard. 

It still knocked the wind out of her and she looked up to see his shit eating grin and arms folded again, smug. 

Clarke narrowed her eyes and before she’d even really had a chance to catch her breath, she shot her leg out, sweeping at his and then he was laying next to her, laughing. She rolled on top of him and sat up, straddling him like she’d wanted to in the first place. 

He let his hands come up to rest on her thighs, his hands splayed out so his thumbs were so close to where her body really wanted them that it couldn’t have been an accident. 

He looked up at her with a residual grin, slowly dimming it into an expression somehow even more breathtaking, his lips parted slightly. Her lip ended up between her teeth again and his eyes flashed to the movement, his hands squeezing her thighs and sliding even higher. One lifted off her leg and reached up to wrap around the side of her neck, his thumb releasing her lip from her teeth, while the thumb on his other hand started in slow circles, the tip of it grazing her lightly as it made its rounds.

She lifted her hand to cover his on her face, holding it where it was so she could kiss the pad on his thumb and she could feel his breathing grow heavier underneath her. Then, as if they were two magnets being drawn together - and hadn’t it been that way all along? - he lifted his head as she dipped hers and their lips crashed together. 

His hands quickly found their way to her ass and she twisted a little, settling down on top of him right where she could get the friction her body was searching for. Her hands twisted in his hair, tugging lightly so she could tip his head back and she could kiss down his neck.

As her lips approached his adam’s apple, he let out a low, guttural noise, and it elicited another grind from her hips down on top of him, where she felt how ready he was for this. 

They’d waited long enough. 

His hands gripped her hips and he sat up and her legs shifted and wrapped around him and he pressed her closer so there was no longer any space between their bodies.

They broke apart for just a second, both panting heavily faces still only inches away. 

Her hands were still in his hair, his were under her shirt just above her hips. It was cold, too cold to shed the rest of their clothes out here, but her body couldn’t feel it. Every inch of her was on fire, a heat so intense that it radiated out from her soul into every limb, igniting every nerve ending like she was wrapped around the sun.

Which, she supposed, she was.

He was her sun, always so warm and secure and grounding, the entire world seemingly rotating around him. He was their leader, her husband, her partner in every sense of the word. 

And instead of burning her, he set her alight, lighting and lifting her up, his brightness to her darkness. 

Clarke didn’t even realize that it had started snowing until she noticed how the flakes started clinging to his hair, the stark white against his dark curls. Her eyes shifted to them, each one melting as it hit their clothes, their skin, both of them too warm for the snowflakes to stay formed. 

The ground, however, was not. She wasn’t sure how long they sat like that, pressed together but not moving, but it was long enough for them to start to notice that the rocks and grass and dirt around them started turning white.

“We can’t stay here,” she finally whispered, breaking the silence. He said nothing, didn’t move, his heart pounding against hers. 

Then all of a sudden they were moving, him lifting the both of them up so they were standing and she swore it was not even a full second before they had their things in their arms, and their hands found each other again, him pulling her along with a vigor that he hadn’t ever used on her before. It was rough and solid, and he never wavered, never let up and all she wanted was _more, more, more_.

She wanted to feel all of him, all of his strength, power, solidity channeled into her. 

They neared the center of the village, the darkness giving them some sort of cover which was good, because she was sure that anyone who so much as looked in their direction would instantly know where they were headed. 

He glanced back briefly like despite her hand in his he wanted to be sure she was still with him.

She’d always be with him. 

The snow was falling in thick flakes now, everywhere she looked was turning whiter and whiter and they locked eyes only briefly, but she thought she’d finally figured out why the snow was considered beautiful. 

It was who she was in the snow _with_ that gave it its magic.

In Polis, the snow was gray, cold, wet, an obstacle she had to fight through to get through her day. 

In Sonchahou, with Bellamy, it was soft and kind and forgiving, covering all their anger and turmoil with comfort and peace and calm. He looked like something from a dream, his flushed cheeks and chocolate brown eyes, his tanned skin and array of freckles, set against the bright backdrop.

They finally reached their destination and practically tripped up the steps in their haste, Bellamy’s hand barely turning the knob before forcing the door inward and she was only just over the threshold before the door was banging shut behind her and her back pushed up against it, their stuff tossed in a heap somewhere to her right. His lips found hers and their mouths moved against each other for hardly a moment before his tongue swept against her, and she opened her lips to deepen the kiss.

He reciprocated and she relished in the taste of him, reminding her of water on a hot day, a breath of fresh air, pure _joy_. 

And joy had never tasted so sweet.

Her hands worked quickly at his shirt, trying to push the hem up towards his head and he reached behind him to pull it off in one quick motion, discarding it on the floor, or maybe the table.

She wasn’t paying much attention to anything except his bare skin pressing itself up against her and all she wanted was to feel him against _her_ bare skin. 

Like he could read her mind, her shirt was being lifted over the top of her head, her hair falling down in waves all around her. He crouched and she felt his hands against the back of her thighs, just under her ass lifting her and then he was spinning them around, walking towards the bed.

He tossed her down on their blankets and climbed on top of her, one leg slotted between hers and she ground against him involuntarily, her body immediately seeking some sort of friction. 

He dipped his head down to her stomach, placing feather light, agonizingly soft kisses around the waistband of her pants. He smiled into her skin at the buck of her hips and he snaked a hand in between them to help her out.

One of her hands tangled in his curls and the other fisted in the blankets next to her before the hand not between her legs came up to surround it, intertwining their fingers above her head as his lips moved back to hers and she held on tightly as the tidal wave of pleasure washed over her. 

Her limbs went languid as she came down, relishing in the intensely satisfying way her body felt both spent and revved up at the same time.

“ _Fuck_ ,” she moaned and his grin was wide as he looked at her, eyes darting around like he was memorizing every inch of her face. 

He sat up then, and his hands moved quickly to remove the rest of her clothes, her hips wiggling around to help him out. 

He looked at her beneath him for a minute, his gaze growing even darker as he drank her in and came down on top of her to seal their lips together again.

“ _Fuck_ , you’re so perfect... _krei meizen_ ,” he murmured into her, calling her beautiful like the word had a whole new meaning to him.

And she’d never been so turned as when he spoke to her in Trig with so much adoration in his voice, softer and more filled with love than she ever heard before. She wanted to hear him speak in that tone for the rest of her life.

Which, she reminded herself, she’d get to.

She used her legs to push his own pants down and finally there was nothing left between them except everything. All the passion, all the warmth, the comfort, the intense desire for one another that had been there from the very beginning, even if they hadn't realized it. Two souls recognizing each other, two binary stars orbiting around and around until they finally crashed together, destroying the old and creating something new, something bigger and better and more powerful than they were before.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I am NOT great at writing sex scenes by any means so it took me forrrever to get this written lol, and hopefully it wasn't too awful.
> 
> I hope you all enjoyed this update!  
> ❤
> 
> If you want to join me on tumblr or check out the moodboard that was made for this fic, click [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488)!


	25. Chapter 25

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go again!
> 
> I know I've said it a hundred times, but it will never be enough... THANK YOU! You all are awesome and I am so glad to have so many of you on this journey with me!

Bellamy woke up cold. It was rare that the weather got to him, living his whole life primarily outdoors, his body was pretty used to the different elements. But on this particular morning, Bellamy woke up cold. 

It probably had something to do with the fact that he woke up with no clothes on. Or blankets. He opened his eyes and turned his head to the left where he knew his wife would be laying, undoubtedly curled up under the half dozen or so blankets that made up their bed linens. And sure enough, a flash of blonde was peeking out of a hole at the top of the mound of fabric. He smiled, both because he couldn’t even see his wife, and also because of what had happened to get them to this point. 

It was very early morning, the sky lightening up, but the sun hadn’t yet made its appearance. He sat up and pulled on his pants back on, leaving his shirt off, and padded over to the fireplace as quietly as he could. The room was freezing and when he glanced quickly out the window, he noticed the thick blanket of white covering everything in sight. It was beautiful, _she_ was beautiful, and if it was any possible for him to fall more in love with Clarke, he had. 

When she tried to fight him at the sparring arena, tried to help him get his frustration out, he’d been apprehensive, but more than that, it went against every fiber of his being down to his bones and his soul to even _pretend_ to attack Clarke, regardless of the fact that he was sure she could hold her own. Still, watching her shoot, watching the way her body somehow both tensed and relaxed as she took aim, completely focused on her target, and then the smile she’d get when she hit her mark, made his pulse race. She’d clearly picked up a few things in Polis. It seemed Roan made a half decent teacher, and he was proud of her. 

He didn’t exactly like hearing how she’d almost died, had to kill a man to protect herself, but he knew it was over and done with, and there was nothing he could do about it now. That didn’t stop his muscles from tensing with rage over it, though. 

Once the fire was roaring and he’d gotten a glass of water, refilling it and setting it on the bedside table for Clarke, he sat next to her on the bed, trying to figure out how to repossess a few of the blankets without waking her up.

He smirked and chuckled softly to himself, scooting closer. Just as he was about to reach for her, though, she spoke.

“Thank you for the fire. It’s cold as fuck in here.”

He chuckled louder then. “I’m surprised you aren’t roasting already since you have _every single one_ of the blankets.”

He saw one blue eye then, as she shifted around, and while he could barely make out the rest of her face, he still knew she was glaring at him. But after a second, he saw her relax a little, her gaze shifting to run over his torso and back up, and he tried not to blush, opting instead to run a hand through his hair, a movement her eye also followed.

He started tugging at the blankets playfully, eliciting an eyeroll, and she finally acquiesced, stretching her limbs out and finally uncovering enough for him to slip under. It didn’t take her long to wrap her body around him, seeking out his warmth. It was then he realized she didn’t have any clothes on either, both of them too spent from the night before to bother putting any on before falling asleep. He could feel his blood starting to pump, desire coiling itself low again. He could feel every part of her pressed up next to him. 

She seemed to realize it at the same time he did, because the hand she had on his chest started slowly working its way around his torso, getting lower and lower until she reached his waistband. She cocked her head to look up at him, mischievousness plain across her features. She slipped her hand inside, and his mind went blank as his body took over, hips chasing her soft skin. 

Then it disappeared and she shifted until she was straddling him, the blankets pooled around her waist and she rocked against him, eliciting a low growl to involuntarily emit from his throat and her grin growing wider. His hands went to her legs squeezing her thighs with each wave that pulse through him. 

“Thought you were cold,” he mumbled, coherent thoughts getting harder and harder to process as she continued.

“Mmm, that’s true… I can stop? If you want?” she suggested.

“Fuck, no!” he said emphatically, causing her to chuckle a little. She bent over, capturing his lips and one of his hands left her leg to clasp her face, tilting her so he could deepen it. She pulled back, placed a kiss on his chest and looked down at him again. 

“I love you,” she told him, simply, genuinely, filled with more love and hope than he would have ever thought possible. 

He reached up so he could have both hands on her face. “I love you too.”

He rolled her over then, so it could be his turn to be the one to run his hands and lips over her body.

By the time they were done, the sun had risen, and they realized that they weren’t going to get much more sleep.

He figured it was well worth it.

\------------------------

“Absolutely not,” Bellamy told her. Outside the day was bright, glinting off the brilliant white of the snow and reflecting into their cabin. Day had dawned a few hours ago, evident from the hustle and bustle outside, but they remained in bed, in their own little world, basking in the glow of each other and the fire roaring in the corner.

They hadn’t left the warmth and comfort of their blankets and each other, save for Bellamy tossing more wood on the fire before rejoining his wife, her pressing her cold toes to his legs. He’d finally reached over onto the floor where his thermal lay - or rather, _her_ thermal now since he hadn’t worn it since she had the first time she slept in his bed over a month ago. 

It was hers now, as was every single part of him.

“Come _on_ ,” she tried to convince him, but he still wasn’t having it. 

“Nope. My hair is fine, it doesn’t need to be cut.”

“Bell, it’s down past your ears. I’m going to braid it just to prove my point,” she told him, her stubborn nature in full effect. 

“No way. You aren’t braiding it or cutting it. What if it’s my source of strength and once you cut it I’m - ”

“Samson? Really?” she asked, giving him a dubious look. “Where did you even learn about Samson?”

Bellamy gestured to the large amount of books that had survived from Old Earth he’d collected over the years, including numerous Bibles. “Besides, then what would you have to pull on when - ”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, I’m not suggesting we shave it all off, just a trim,” she said rolling her eyes. He narrowed his at her, and let his hand drift lower from where it was on her shoulder to her side. “What are you doing?” she asked suspiciously.

“What do you think I’m doing?”

“Again? You know we risk someone walking in on us at some point - ” she tried to argue as his fingers started digging into her side exactly where she was most ticklish. “Fuck, get off! Come _on_!” she exclaimed as he used both hands now and she tried to wiggle her way away from him. 

He let out a bark of laughter to match her own, as she tried to get away from him.

“Okay, okay, _okay_ , I _give_! I don’t care anymore, let it grow!” she shrieked. He calmed his hands and she looked at him warily before allowing herself to snuggle up to his side again.

“Thank you,” he responded smugly and it earned him a smack to his chest. 

“Maybe I _will_ pretend your head is my target next time,” she mumbled in fake irritation.

The chuckle he had ready to come out died in his throat when he remembered how intensely focused she was while shooting, the look of rage she’d had in her stare, as if if her arrow missed the target, she might actually make it spontaneously combust just by looking at it.

“Who was it?” he asked and her eyes flashed up to his before quickly darting away. She started drawing pictures across his chest with her fingertip and remained silent. But he could feel her muscles tense up under his arm. “Clarke? Come on, you can tell me anything.”

“I know.”

“So?”

She took a deep breath. “It’s not hard to figure out, won’t be a surprise,” she mumbled.

“Monty?” he guessed with a sad smile. Because he _did_ know who it was, knew who had earned the fury of Clarke Griffin. “Ontari.”

If it were possible, she tensed even harder next to him. 

“Clarke, I don’t know if there’s anything we can do.”

He knew it had been bothering her all week, that it had been on the tip of her tongue, the forefront of her mind since they’d gotten back. She had a passionate sense of justice, something that he adored to no end, but it was dangerous. Anything they could even think of trying could end up getting them, getting _her_ killed. He’d only just gotten her back.

The thought of losing her again made his heart stop in his chest. 

Ontari wouldn’t let them leave alive a second time.

She remained quiet for a few moments. “What if there was?”

“Clarke…”

“No, seriously Bellamy,” she said, sitting up. “She can’t be allowed to just run rampant, torturing or _killing_ people whenever she feels like it!” Her voice started breaking, and he heard the pain, the _agony_ in her tone, how hard she was trying to hold herself together. She sounded like a bomb ready to explode. “Aren’t you angry?”

“Am I - of course I’m angry! I’m fucking furious over this! But this is the way it’s always been, the way of our people, our coalition. I hate it, with every fiber of my being. I hate that Ontari has the freedom to do whatever the hell she wants,” he said, voice rising too. She can’t possibly think that he was okay with _any_ of it. He tried to lower his voice, to make her understand. “Do you have any idea how many people have tried to stop her reign? Challenged her leadership? They’ve all failed,” he told her, implication clear. 

Ontari had spilled so much blood, he was legitimately surprised she hadn’t drowned in it yet.

“I won’t,” Clarke told him, determined and firm. 

It was then he realized how she phrased those words. It wasn’t _I wouldn’t_ , like she was trying to convince him that something should be done. It was _I won’t_. Like she’d already decided. She’d already decided that she was going to do something.

Which of course meant he was going to be beside her. He was never not going to be with her. It was the two of them, forever. 

He was terrified about what that would mean though.

“And I won’t let you die.”

Equally decided. If she’d already decided to do something about Ontari, then he needed her to know that he’d also decided not to let her die, whatever that looked like.

Her eyes were brimming with tears, probably hot and angry. “I thought she was going to kill you,” she told him, quieter than he’d expected, given her expression. “You were going to die, and I - I couldn’t move, couldn’t stop it. I can’t - if I can stop her from making someone else feel like that, watching their loved one die because they stood up to her… I have to do it, Bell.”

She wasn’t arguing, wasn’t yelling, she was pleading, trying to make him understand why she had to do something. Why leaving it alone wasn’t an option for her. 

His heart grew at her passion, her willingness to risk herself for people she’d met only months ago. To go up against a system in place for a hundred years, traditions that many held sacred, all in the name of justice, of saving lives. 

“What would you do if it was me at the other end of that whip?” she asked. 

It was a scenario that had been playing at the back of his mind since they’d gotten back. He pushed it down, refusing to let himself go there. Refusing to even entertain the idea of Clarke going through the pain he had. But now that she’d said it out loud, he knew what happened next.

Because he would’ve burned down all of Polis if Ontari had dared to do anything like that to Clarke.

And as scared as he was to go up against her, he knew that if he allowed himself to go back there in his mind, he would make the same decision she was making anyway. All of the excuses he’d just made about the _way it’s always been_ were just that - excuses.

“Clarke…” he began, but before he could finish, both of their attention was captured by the voices just on the other side of their door. The voices were harsh whispers, arguing about something.

“I’m not knocking on that door Murph,” he heard his sister say.

“Oh please, like we all don’t know how you got knocked up,” Murphy retorted. “Since when do you care if your brother has sex or not?”

Silence. Then - 

“ _Ow_! Shove off, O.”

The tension broke between him and Clarke and they both looked at each other, chuckling quietly. She let her forehead fall onto his chest, and he could feel her smile against his skin. When she looked back up, the flames had tempered, simmering in the background, but it was enough for now to just take a breather from their conversation. She leaned forward, giving him a kiss that he lost himself in for a moment until a banging sounded, making them both jump.

“Hey you two! If you’re done with - stop pinching me, O, I wasn’t going to say the s-word - with your activities for the time, we’re all headed down to the beach,” Murphy called. “Sorry if I interrupted,” he added, and Bellamy could hear his smirk through the door. 

“We’ll meet you down there,” Bellamy responded. 

“Like in an hour or - damnit little Blake!” 

Bellamy could hear some yelping and scurrying and he could only picture what Octavia was threatening him with to get him to run from her. 

“Well, bubble popped,” Clarke smirked, shrugging. 

“It was going to be eventually.”

He sat up, swinging his legs over the edge. Turning his head towards her, he saw her get up on her knees and scoot towards his back. She ran her hands down his chest, her chin resting on her shoulder. “I love you,” she whispered in his ear, kissing the hollow just under it. 

“Careful, I might make us stand up Murphy, you keep running your hands over me like that.”

“Would that be so bad?” she asked with a tone that made him almost completely abandon everyone waiting on them just so he could hear it over and over. 

But he used whatever self-control he still possessed and twisted out of her hold, causing a pout to appear on her lips as he stood. He just smiled at her though, leaning over to kiss it off.

“Come on, get dressed,” he told her, tossing her pants that were still on the floor from the night before at her.

“Why?” she asked, one eyebrow cocked in suspicion.

“Because I know why they’re headed to the beach,” he teased.

***

Well, that could've gone better. Clarke hadn’t intended to have that conversation yet, but there never was going to be a good time to have it and she was tired of keeping it all inside. They’d barely cracked the surface on everything she wanted to say, the points she wanted to make, but at the very least, they got to start the conversation.

For now, that was enough. For now, she wanted to just be a woman in love, someone with friends and family who didn’t have a care in the world.

Except, apparently, for how _fucking cold_ the snow was.

The moment they stepped outside, even bundled up, the cold seeped into her bones and down into her toes. 

She had to admit though, the white blanket that covered the village was stunning. She was used to the vibrant greens and the deep browns of the forest, the gray gravel that made up their paths, the light brown of the sun worn cabins. That had all turned to white overnight. Everywhere she turned she saw the kids dressed up in their heavy jackets and boots playing in it. 

She shivered involuntarily. The snow here was different from the way it was in Polis, thicker, softer and her boots made a small crunching sound as they wound their way around the village. Bellamy either just assumed she was cold, or saw her body visibly shake, because before she knew it, she was tucked into his side, his arm around her, sliding up and down from her elbow to her shoulder to keep her warm.

He bent over and pressed a kiss to her temple, his lips still so damn warm despite the fact that he had half the amount of layers she did. 

They hadn’t made an official announcement, assuming word of mouth would spread it for them, that they were together, let alone _married_ , and the residents of the village they passed didn’t seem surprised or confused as to why they were pressed up against each other as they walked. They just offered their sweet congratulations as they passed. 

Then Madi came out of nowhere, slamming into Clarke’s legs, and almost knocking her off her feet if it weren’t for the strong arm around her. 

“Clarke! Bellamy! _Spechou! Spechou!_ I just found out you two are _married_! I just saw you last week and - and - oh this is so _odei_!” she rambled, talking a mile a minute, congratulating them. They both chuckled and Bellamy let Clarke go so he could crouch down to her level.

“I’m glad you think it’s amazing, Mads,” he told her. Then he looked up at Clarke and his eyes actually looked like they were _glowing_. “I kind of think it is too,” he told her, whispering like he was telling her a secret. 

Madi’s smile grew even wider. “You must love her a lot. Mom always wondered why you hadn’t taken a wife yet,” she whispered back. Clarke tried to stifle her laugh. Bellamy shook his head.

“Well, it’s because I hadn’t met Clarke yet. The universe knew it was her I was waiting for,” he told Madi, giving her a kiss on the top of her head before standing up again. Clarke’s laugh died in her throat as it gave way to a swelling in her chest, like her heart had just grown bigger, unable to contain her love for Bellamy in a normal-sized heart any longer.

Madi just giggled and ran off to join her other friends, who were in the middle of building a structure out of the snow. 

She caught the blush of the tips of Bellamy’s ears as he swung his arm around her again and they continued towards the beach.

Guilt started worming its way in. After all he’d done for her, sacrificed, risked, how could she possibly ask him to try to upheave his clan’s, his people’s entire belief system? They all believe the Flame chose Ontari, that _she_ was the rightful Commander, good or bad. 

Even if Bellamy didn’t believe that, and she knew he didn’t believe that Ontari should be charge, should be free to kill or torture anyone she chooses, he was a leader, someone who couldn’t just put his people in danger. 

Plus, he was terrified for her, she knew that. And it was probably unfair of her to throw the _what if it were her_ in his face like she had, but she needed him to understand. Needed him to understand the way she’d felt as that whip came down, and how that was what everyone that Ontari tortured or killed went through. How she couldn’t just let that happen anymore. 

She knew it bothered him too. She knew it every time he spoke of Luna, of her abandoning the Conclave, or every time Azgeda flexed their influence or muscle over him. He hated being forced to follow someone he hated. His virtuous heart, his bravery, they were things she loved about him. 

She didn’t want to fight with him over it though, she wanted to fight _with_ him, side by side.

She’d been looking down as she walked, and she knew he was watching her carefully as she turned it all over in her mind, around and around and around like the carousels she’d seen in books on the Ark that Old Earth had. She never saw the point of those. Around and around and still no one ever got anywhere.

Clarke didn’t want to go around and around. She wanted off the ride, wanted to _do something_.

But it was because she was looking down, not watching where she was going that she missed the fact that they’d arrived on the beach. The snow that covered the ground, also covered the transition between dirt and sand. 

It wasn’t until she had a face full of snow that she realized she also missed Bellamy letting go and stepping a few paces away. Her mouth dropped open, her brain taking longer than usual to process what had just happened. She looked around at her family surrounding her all with various grins, smug looks, and joyful expressions on, when her gaze finally landed on Bellamy.

He was tossing a snowball (that was the only way she could think of describing it) up and down in the air, a teasing look plastered on his boyish features. He looked years younger then, sparkle in his eyes, a lopsided grin on his lips.

The beach was set up like a field, massive snow structures every few feet. Monty was holding Harper from behind, Miller and Jasper were busy assembling more of those snowballs into a pile. Murphy was currently attempting to sneak up on O from behind, as O was currently distracted looking back and forth between Clarke and Bellamy, clearly trying to anticipate what Clarke was going to do to her brother in retaliation.

She turned her look back to Bellamy, who now stood still, the ball of snow still in his palm.

“What the _fuck_ was that?”

His grin only grew wider.

“That, Princess, was the start of our annual snowball fight.”

Oh. _It was a game_.

Well, she was never one to back down from a challenge.

“You’re going to regret that,” she warned, stalking closer. She timed her movements to Murphy’s silently declaring her siding with him, and at the same time that Murphy smacked O in the back of the head with his giant snowball, causing Bellamy’s head to swing away from Clarke’s, she quickly snatched the ball from his loosened grip, and smacked him in the cheek with it. 

She watched as his head swung back around, face full of mock offense. She started running for the first snow structure.

“No, Griffin, over here!” she heard Murphy call out to her. She turned her head towards his voice at the same time a snowball hit her on the back. 

She was laughing as she was running, the cold still in her bones, but her face was flushed with excitement. Murphy and Lincoln were ducked under the snow bank to her left and she quickly steered her steps in that direction. 

“Nice timing, _flougada_ ,” Murphy smirked.

“Glad to have you with us. The Blakes are brutal with snow fights and we’ll need all the help we can get,” Lincoln told her quickly. She was already hearing shouts from across the way, Bellamy and Octavia barking orders over to the others.

“So who all is on our side?” she asked. If they were getting into this war, she was going to need to know who was with them.

“Yo!” she heard from her right and Clarke popped her head over the structure they were crouched behind to see Raven and Miller waving at her before having to duck back down to dodge a snowball hurled at them by Octavia.

So that left Monty, Harper, and Jasper on the enemy side.

Clarke caught Bellamy’s eye while her head was unprotected and he smiled mischievously at her, swooping down to scoop up a pile of snow. She cocked an eyebrow at him and ducked back down with Murphy and Lincoln.

“So what’s the plan?”

“Well, since Linc and I are the only ones who have ever actually done this before, you’re going to need to know how to make a snowball. Then, we attack, come at them from all sides.”

“What about Raven and Miller? They are all on their own over there.”

Murphy shook his head. “I’ve already taught Reyes what to do. She’s teaching Miller.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. “Uh huh. And when did you have time to do that?” She realized they had to have been together for a while this morning in order to do that.

Murphy gave her a look. “We don’t have time for your nonsense, we’re in a war, Griff!”

Lincoln just laughed. “Okay, here’s what you do,” he started explaining, teaching her quickly how to pack the ball as firmly as possible, while Murphy defended their position.

Eventually though, they had to leave the safety of their shield and go on the offensive. It turned out Clarke was far better at archery than she was at snowball fights, but she did her best, her endurance mostly making up for her aim, but she still ended up getting hit twice as many times as she hit whoever she was aiming at.

Monty and Jasper, however were the real stars of the day, using their freakish ability to know what the other was thinking, pinning Miller and Clarke down before Raven and Murphy came to their rescue, both bobbing and weaving around like they were dancing and pelting Jasper with so much snow, he was practically buried in it, .

Lincoln and Clarke had O and Bellamy trapped at one point, socking them in the head with multiple snowballs every time they poked out of the structure they were hiding behind. 

They could hear the siblings whispering conspiratorially from where they were hiding, and Lincoln mouthed to Clarke to sneak carefully around the embankment, so when they popped back out again, they could surprise attack them. 

She made snowballs as quickly as she could, still far behind Lincoln, who she was sure moved faster than any normal human being, making snowballs like a machine, but still, by the time they were ready for their attack, her arms were full and she was ready.

Her and Lincoln shuffled quietly, each taking one side of the structure and when they heard movement, they got ready. 

Bellamy and Octavia’s hair were what was visible first, his curls and her sleek strands dark against the white of the snow. They disappeared for only a second before standing straight up, prepared to attack her and Lincoln with their own armfuls.

However, Clarke and Lincoln had moved quickly and quietly enough that they were now at the siblings’ backs and one by one they smacked them over and over, causing Bellamy and O to drop their armfuls and collapse in a heap so they could cover their faces. Once she ran out of ammo though, Bellamy peeked out of his arms and before she knew it, he had lunged for her.

She tried bolting away from him, squealing and laughing as he reached her and hauled her up by her middle from behind. 

“Put me down!” she shouted, reminding her of their first game of _Gapa_ all those months ago, back when she didn’t really know if she could trust him yet.

Now she’d walk through fire for him.

She twisted her head back over her shoulder to get a look at him, and he grinned wickedly back at her.

“Not a chance, Princess, you’re stuck now,” he told her.

“Lincoln! Murphy! Raven! Someone stop him! Miller!” she called for reinforcements, but she saw the rest of Bellamy’s team had each one of the others pinned down, Raven shouting sarcastically, taunting Jasper even though she was losing, Murphy saying _fuck_ a lot as Harper backed him into a corner, producing a bucket from who knows where and tossing the entire load on Murphy’s head, Monty and Miller taking turns pelting each other with snow, and Octavia and Lincoln were playing a game of chicken over by another structure. “ _Shit!_ ” she yelled, as she realized no one was coming to her rescue that time.

“Shit is right,” Bellamy told her cheekily as he twisted and tossed her over his shoulder so her forehead was in his lower back. She tried kicking her legs in protest, but he reached over and smacked her ass and laughed. “Nope, you’re mine.”

“You’re going to fucking regret this Blake!” she threatened. 

Before she knew what was happening, she was flying through the air and her back hit something solid and pliable all at once, and then it was like she was underground somehow, her eyes seeing snow everywhere she looked. 

“What - ?” She tried getting up, wiping the snow from her face. “What the hell?!”

She heard Bellamy laughing from somewhere above her so she craned her neck around and saw his face in her purview, smirk on his lips, arms folded across his chest.

“Need help, Princess?”

“Hell no, I just have to figure out - damnit, why can’t I move?” her body was covered in snow and she was struggling to even sit up.

“Well, you see, when I tossed you into the shield, it caved in around you, covering you in snow, so now you have it all that on top of you,” he explained, his shit eating grin growing wider. “Good luck.”

He wouldn’t have tossed her in there unless he knew she could handle the weight without getting hurt or crushed, just enough to be trapped. But still, she refused to give an inch and ask for help.

Clarke huffed, and struggled against it a little longer before flopping back down in her wet, snowy bed. The wetness started to seep through her clothing, but with the adrenaline from the war still pumping through her veins, she couldn’t feel it as much. That would probably change later.

“You’re an ass,” she told him, and he let out a long roar of laughter and bent down to start digging her out.

“No, no, I can do it myself,” she insisted, waving him off.

“Oh just grab my hand.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him, and he rolled his, reaching his hand down to her. She pretended to be annoyed, but under the snow, she dug her heels in, making sure they were firmly planted, all the way down to the sand.

Then, she placed one hand in his and her other one on his wrist, his eyes going wide as her lips quirked up as she knew he could see what she was about to do. She tugged with every ounce of strength she had left in her sore and exhausted limbs and pulled him down on top of her.

He landed just to her left, face down in the snow, as she doubled over in laughter - well, as doubled over as she could get still covered in snow.

He spit out a mixture of sand and snow, swiping his hand over his face. 

“You’re - right -” she conceded in between her gasps for air as she laughed. “Snow - is - fun!”

“Yes, SO fun!” he emphasized sarcastically, turning over so he was on his back next to her. She turned her head towards him, still trying to catch her breath. He lifted his neck up and shook out his hair, the long curls sending sprays of water all over her and she yelped as the cold droplets landed on her face. “Ugh, fine, you can cut my hair later,” he finally conceded.

“Thank you! Now get me out of here, I’m fr - freezing,” she said through chattering teeth.

“I know a _very_ effective way of warming you up,” he smirked, rolling over on top of her, nosing her neck and peppering her with kisses as she playfully shoved at him. 

“You two about done?” Raven asked from above them and they both craned their neck around to see their family standing around watching them.

“Apparently,” Bellamy responded sarcastically and groaned loudly as he got to his feet, pulling Clarke with him. 

“Okay, anyone up for some tea?” Octavia offered. “We always go warm up with some tea by the fire in the meeting hall after the war,” she explained to the newcomers.

“Oh! And we can add our latest batch of moonshine,” Monty elbowed Jasper.

“Ugh, would that even taste good?” Harper asked, looking a little like Clarke was feeling. Still, the idea of the warm spirits working their way through her body sounded like it might be worth the awful taste.

“We’ll find out!” Jasper insisted. “We keep meaning to barrel it, so that it’s more whiskey than moonshine, but haven’t exactly gotten there yet.”

“I may or may not have a small store of our batch of _ridiyowoda_ from last winter we - you can try,” Octavia offered, frowning a little when she obviously realized she wouldn’t actually be able to have it. 

“That sounds amazing,” Clarke responded. “But Harper and I should go check on the clinic. Or I could do it and Harper you can go with Monty?”

“There wasn’t anyone in there when I left, most only have mild symptoms now. But we’ll both go double check and meet you all in there?” Harper offered.

Clarke snagged a blanket out of the chest on their way back, trying to dispel the chill still working its way through her body. She noticed Monty and Jasper doing the same, and Murphy had grabbed one to wrap around Raven.

“Hey, I’ll see you later, okay?” Bellamy told her softly, running his hands up and down her blanketed arms.

Clarke nodded and gave him a quick kiss. “Save me some tea.”

\------------------------

**  
_4 years ago_   
**

“Yeah, Dad, I’ll be inside in a minute!” Clarke responded. Her and Wells were standing in the hallway between their two units, finishing their conversation from earlier.

Well, less conversation, more argument. Which didn’t happen often with them, but still, she was too stubborn for her own good and sometimes just couldn’t let things go.

Especially something as big as this. 

“Okay, sweetheart, but curfew starts soon and even the Chancellor’s son and Council’s daughter have to set good examples,” her dad insisted, his head poking out of the Griffin stateroom.

“Of course, Mr. Griffin,” Wells told him with a smile. Her dad closed the door.

“I hate that we’re always expected to ‘set the good example’ and ‘follow the rules’,” she mumbled. “We should be able to speak up if we disagree with something. But no, we have to toe the party line. Be the good girl, the ‘Princess of the Ark’. You know that’s what they call me?” she rambled, irritated.

“Yeah, but come on, you kind of are,” Wells pointed out, and she glared at him.

At 16, Clarke was finally starting to really make noise about her disagreement with the current practices and laws of the Ark. She’s always thought it wasn’t quite right, not entirely fair that the smallest infraction resulted in death, that the Ark basically ruled with fear, but she was a kid, _what did she know_?

Then a year ago, a girl in her class got sick, like _really sick_. And she could hear the girl’s mom talking to Clarke’s mom when she would visit the clinic after school to do her homework, _pleading_ with Clarke’s mom to give her an extra dose of medicine. 

Abby held firm, citing protocol. There are rules and when rules get broken, _everything descends into chaos_ , Clarke.

She’d tried to reason with her Dad, whom she could tell also disagreed, but in the end he enforced the rules too.

Then the medicine was stolen.

Clarke’s friend lived, her mother didn’t.

It was the first execution she’d ever actually seen. She held her friend while she cried, her only parent sent out into space for daring to save her daughter’s life.

“Wells. Just because we are council children, doesn’t mean we have to agree with every rule, every way that the Ark does things and even if this is the way it’s always been done, doesn’t mean it’s right! Change only comes if someone is brave enough to work for it.”

“And maybe that will work on the ground, Clarke. Maybe we will have the chance to do better there, whenever that is, but up here, our hands are kind of tied. No one is going to listen to a couple of kids.”

She groaned, frustrated, and stomped to her room without talking to either of her parents. They were just going to say the same thing. They all meant well, but it still didn’t sit right with her. Standing by while injustice was happening, while people were getting hurt, _dying_ , while not even trying to find a better way?

That wasn’t her. It would never _be_ her.

\------------------------

The memory of that conversation with Wells played on a loop through Clarke’s head, as it had been for the last several days. It wasn’t the last time they debated the morality of the Ark, but they’d eventually learned to just drop it, and Clarke made a promise to herself that when she was an adult, she wouldn’t just sit by and let it happen.

It was a week after the snowball war now and Clarke was finally getting around to cutting Bellamy’s hair. Despite the fact that he gave her permission to do it, he’d still been stalling and she began wondering whether he really did believe his strength laid in his curls.

It wasn’t like she was going to cut them all off or anything. She was stupidly attached to those curls.

_Snip._

They hadn’t spoken yet, Clarke was trying to her hardest to pay attention. She wasn’t very used to cutting hair, but she’d done it a few times over the years, when her dad needed it and didn’t have time to go to the Ark’s barber. Or on the ground, trimming her own hair so that it didn’t get too long. 

There were many days she almost just cut it off to at least her shoulders or chin.

But she had a feeling Bellamy liked her waves as much as she liked his curls.

_Snip._

“Okay, seriously, you’re not cutting off too much, right?”

“Oh for fuck’s sake, big bad warrior Bellamy is anxious over a hair cut?”

He just pouted and stayed silent. 

_Snip._

There was something intimate about him letting her do this, especially since he was so clearly uncomfortable. Maybe she shouldn’t make fun of him anymore. 

_And maybe that’ll work on the ground, Clarke._

Clarke bit the inside of her cheek. Even after all this time, she could still hear Wells’s voice in her head. Even after everything that had happened since he died, fresh waves of grief still washed over her from time to time and she was sure she’d never be completely passed it. 

_Maybe we’ll have a chance to do better there._

A tear leaked out from the corner of her eyes.

 _Snip_.

She stopped her hands after that, going quiet as she got lost in that conversation on the Ark, a small part of their decades long friendship, but still.

The ground was supposed to be different. 

They were supposed to do better here.

But apparently either on the Ark or the ground, killing was always the answer, no matter the offense.

She didn’t like it then, she didn’t like it now. 

The difference was, she could do something about it now. 

“Clarke?” Bellamy asked when he noticed her hands hadn’t moved, hadn’t snipped off anymore of his dark locks in a few minutes. He twisted around in the chair to look up at her. “Whoa, Clarke, what’s going on? C’mere,” he beckoned to his legs and she went all too willingly.

“On the Ark,” she began, wincing with the effort it was taking to hold herself together. “My mother always told me there was no choice, no other option than to kill anyone who stepped out of line. That our society would fall apart without that punishment.”

“Yeah, I know, I remember you talking about that. It’s why there were no siblings, right?”

She nodded. “My entire life I wanted to change that, wanted to find some way to do better. Everyone told me that there was nothing I could do, that I just didn’t understand. Wells told me that on the ground, things would be different. People could stand up for what they believed was right, that consequences would be fair, and just.”

He grew quiet. “Yeah, we really proved you both wrong, hmm?” She could tell he’d meant it lightly, but there was an undercurrent of seriousness to his tone.

“Stop,” she said, grabbing his hand before he could take on the guilt of the entire human race. “Seriously, I’m not talking about you, or the way you lead this village. Bellamy,” she faced him, looked him in the eyes so he would know without a doubt how much she believed what she was about to say next. “You are one of the most honest, fair, honorable people I’ve ever known. Even of the people I _don’t_ know, that’s how sure I am.”

“Clarke…” 

“A lot of things happened when I came down that I didn’t expect. But I definitely didn’t come down to Earth just to end up in the same position as we were on the Ark. We have a chance to make a real difference in people’s lives. And as much as I know Ontari and probably most of Azgeda would like me to, I don’t roll over, I don’t run, I don’t hide. So _please_ don’t ask me to,” she asked, pleading now. 

“Clarke, I would never dream of asking you to do that. I love your fight, your spirit, your dedication to do better. I’m just - this is so big. You’re looking to upend a system that people would _die_ for. And I can’t - I couldn’t handle it if something happened to you. You’ve already been through and lost so much.”

“And so have you. That’s… not always something we can control. Look, we can let the bad things that have happened define who we are. Or _we_ can define who we are. There is no joy without pain.”

He looked at her for a long second and it was like the world had stopped spinning. There were only the two of them, two halves of a whole, the head and the heart. 

She wouldn’t do this without him. She needed him by her side. But she wasn’t going to force him.

His hand came up to her face, his thumbs wiping away the hot, burning tears that had started falling. She wasn’t sobbing, but she felt so strongly, her emotions couldn’t help but boil over.

“Okay.” 

Clarke saw the set of his jaw, the fire in his eyes, the way the Earth seemed to tremble under them at his decision. She let out a breath she hadn’t even known she was holding. She could practically hear the muscles in his arm vibrate with intensity and she knew this was difficult for him. 

Not whether they were doing the right thing; that wasn’t what this had been about for him at all. It was never about whether standing up to Ontari was the principled thing to do. She knew he agreed with her on that point. 

It had been how with that one word, that one, small, four letter word they both said a million times a day, he agreed to risking their lives. That after the dust settled and the battle was over, one or both of them might not be standing. She knew it went against every fiber of his being.

He would do anything for her, to protect her. As she would him. 

“You mean it? You’re with me?” Clarke couldn’t help but ask, she had to be sure.

“You’re out of your mind if you think I’m letting you do this alone. So, yeah, I’m with you. We do it together,” he told her, firmly, echoing what he’d said to her before she’d left for Polis.

“Together.”

She got up and finished his hair so it wouldn't be lopsided, then he pulled her back in. She actually _giggled_ , feeling lighter than she had in days now that they'd finally talked, and let him kiss her until they both had to come up for air.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And here we go. Down the rabbit hole!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed the chapter! 
> 
> See you Sunday or Monday! Stay safe and have a wonderful weekend!  
> ❤  
> If anyone wants to come hang out on tumblr with me or check out the moodboard for this fic, click [here](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488)!


	26. Chapter 26

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello everyone!
> 
> So I hesitated in posting this given current events, but I did say on Thursday that I was updating on Monday, so I wanted to follow through on that. Feel free to message me if you think I should delay the next one, or have questions or concerns. I love you all and I thank each and every one of you for continuing to support this story!
> 
> Also, there's mention of tech in this chapter and we're just going to pretend I know what I'm talking about okay? And that the claims made have an actual shot of happening lol.
> 
> Okay, one more also. This one has a bunch of lines from the show in it because I just couldn't help myself 😜
> 
> ❤

“You both are out of your fucking minds,” Murphy told them, pacing around like if he made enough laps around the table, it would rewind time and he wouldn’t have heard them say what they did.

“Murphy,” Bellamy started with. “It’s the right thing to do.”

He and Clarke had spent quite a while discussing different approaches to what they were planning, and what they were hoping the outcome would be once they were on the other side. Ultimately, they knew that this was not a decision that should be taken lightly, it was not a decision that could be made by just the two of them. They were a family, this impacted all of them.

So they’d called everyone together and announced that they were going to make a move on Polis, on Ontari. To restore justice and peace to the Flame, to the clans.

“I’m in,” his sister announced, standing tall. But her declaration fell short when the bump that was clearly showing on her abdomen made itself known. She was about halfway through her pregnancy, both mom and baby healthy.

“Absolutely not.”

“Well it’s a good thing you don’t control me.”

“Damnit Octavia.”

“Like it or not Bell, I’m going to be part of this in _some_ way.”

He gritted his teeth at his sister, refusing to back down. The problem was, she did the same thing back.

“Okay, you two, we need to have an actual plan before we start assigning roles anyway, so at least, for now, the important thing is we know O is in support, right?” Clarke clarified, and he could see her shift in his peripheral so she was more in between them.

O nodded once, eyes not leaving him to even look at Clarke.

“Well, I am not in. There are about a million reasons why this won’t work,” Murphy insisted, almost shouting and crossing his arms.

Once he tore his gaze away from his sister, he turned to face him. Clarke sighed next to him. “Yes, we’re aware, Murphy. But we also can’t just sit by and let Ontari continue leading like this.” 

Murphy scoffed and rounded on Bellamy. 

“Did you forget what happened last time you defied Ontari? You almost _died_ , Bellamy, we all did,” he bit out.

“Yeah, I remember. I remember every lash, every crack, every sting of pain. I still have the scars and nightmares to prove it. But I also remember you and Clarke, even Miller. I remember your faces, your reactions. Ontari was punishing you as much as me. But after that… Clarke and I agree, violence can’t be the answer.”

They all turned to look at him and Clarke, every pair of eyes swimming in confusion. 

“If you didn’t call us to tell us you’re declaring war on that bitch, what the hell is this? Planning on asking her nicely to step aside, Blake?” Raven asked sarcastically, the question that was clearly on everyone’s mind. 

Even despite everything that went down with Finn and Raven, she slotted in the village like she belonged there, all of their trust in her basically instinctual, like it had been with Monty, Jasper, and Miller. She was wicked smart, and even though she never regained feeling in her lower leg, she was a hard worker and was fiercely loyal.

Besides, Murphy would never have let them kick her out anyway, even if they wanted to.

He and Clarke exchanged a look.

As much as they hated Ontari, if they truly wanted to change things, to make the world a better place, they couldn’t answer killing with killing. They couldn’t just assassinate Ontari. Storming the tower, putting her on her knees… that wasn’t them, that was _her_. They didn’t want to be murderers. That was something that was all too easy to agree on. 

But it also made a _shit ton_ of things harder.

“Because we aren’t her. We don’t just kill.”

“She deserves it,” Octavia spit out.

“Yeah, she does,” Bellamy agreed, because he couldn’t deny the world would be a better place without Ontari. “But that isn’t who we are and we can’t just keep the cycle of violence going. If we want peace, _true_ peace, we can’t start this with violence. Not as much as we can help it anyway.” They were aware that a fight may come anyway, but they needed to try.

“She’ll never back down,” Murphy sneered.

“We’ve seen her brutality, I think I might be with Murphy on this one, dude,” Miller put forth. “We’ve had nothing but a shit time down here, because of _her_.”

“Okay, guys - ”

“She let McCreary go, Blake! She almost forced Clarke to marry her fucking brother. She is a power hungry asshole who _isn’t going to back down_ ,” Murphy tried again.

“We are NOT assassins!” Clarke shouted when people started talking over each other. “We know that this seems impossible, guys, we get it. It’s dangerous and risky and we might not win. But we have to try.”

Harper and Monty hadn’t really said anything, but Monty was sat at the table, his head in his hands. Jasper, who Bellamy had rarely ever seen without a goofy smile, despite all he’d gone through, was silent, staring at the corner of the room with a far off look in his eyes.

“Monty?” Clarke asked. “You’ve been here almost as long as I have, seen what love and peace can do.”

Monty lifted his head and Harper put a hand on his shoulder. “I have. But I think… I think this will lead to more deaths and more killing - ” he told them. When Clarke opened her mouth to say something though, Monty raised his hand. “But I understand that this, if you succeed, will be what is best for everyone. I just - I don’t think I can do it.”

“We’ll stay behind,” Harper spoke up. “You’ll need some of us to stay behind and watch over things. Not to mention both Clarke and I can’t be gone anyway. We support you, in whatever way you need from here. You take care of Polis, we’ll take care of Sonchahou,” she told them, confidently, boldly. 

It wasn’t really a surprise, Harper didn’t have a mean or violent bone in her body. She was tough, could take a lot and still hold her head high, but he knew she’d have a rough time if she came to Polis with them. And she was right, they couldn’t _all_ go anyway.

“I - we’re not going to force anyone into anything, and yeah, I would love nothing more than to have you watching over our home Harp,” he affirmed. “You too, Monty.” He saw Monty take a deep breath. Jasper’s shoulders sagged a little and if Bellamy had to guess, he was relieved that he wasn’t expected to come either. It would be asking too much, after what he had gone through at the drop ship.

Raven squared off to him. “You say your intention is no killing, but Azgeda isn’t exactly going to make that easy. While I was in Polis, do you have any idea how many Ice Nation warriors were bragging to the other clans that they could do and go wherever they wanted because of Ontari? They aren’t going to give up that easily. Plus there’s the matter of getting in in the first place. You think they’re going to just let us stroll up to their gates?”

Truth be told, he and Clarke hadn’t made that decision yet, only tossed a few ideas around before deciding they needed to decide on a plan as a family. That having everyone’s minds to the task would be better than just trying to come up with a plan just the two of them.

“We’ll figure it out,” Clarke insisted.

“You suck at talking people into things, you know that?” Murphy mumbled, but his face wasn’t as sullen or irritated, so Bellamy hoped he was coming around. 

“What’s your contingency if you get separated? It’s not like we have walkie talkies or any way of signaling once we’re there.”

“Raven, you’ve told us all the ways this could go wrong. Now how about you help us figure out what we need to do to make this happen? Or are you not with us?” he asked. They could go around and around but the fact of the matter was that they weren’t going to figure anything out until they knew they were in together, as a family.

“Hell yeah I’m with you. Ontari can kiss my ass,” Raven declared without hesitating a second longer.

Murphy smirked at her and Bellamy wondered if the way he looked at Raven was the same way Bellamy looked at Clarke. If it was, no wonder so many of them knew they loved each other before he even acknowledged it himself.

“You know I’m in.”

“Yes, O, I’m aware,” Bellamy told her, still uncomfortable with it. Clarke smiled up at him and he felt himself relax just a little. Clarke loved her too, they’d both make sure O and the baby were healthy. 

It was nice to not have to shoulder everything on his own before. Not that he’d ever been completely alone, but now he just felt _complete_.

Lincoln stood tall. “We’ve all got a monster inside of us. And we should all be held responsible for what it does when we let it out, including Ontari,” he told them firmly. Then he softened, “And you know I go where you do,” Lincoln said to O more than to the rest of them, wrapping his arms around his sister’s waist, resting his hands on her bump. 

Yeah, it’d be more than just him and Clarke looking after that baby.

Jasper cleared his throat. “I’m, uh, in too. But I’d like to stay behind with Monty and Harper.”

Bellamy gave him a small smile and a nod to indicate he understood.

“You even have to ask?” Miller said, straightening up. “Of course I’m in, let’s do this.”

That left just Murphy.

“Come on, Murphy,” Bellamy said, walking a little closer to him. Murphy was still shaking his head and scoffing. “I want to know what you think - what you _really_ think.”

Murphy finally looked up, looked him right in the eyes. His slim frame may not be physically imposing, but he was a force to be reckoned with anyway. 

“I think it’s a risk, trying to leave her alive, maybe even a mistake.”

“You’re right, it is. It’s a huge risk. But we didn’t go through what we did in Polis - Wells didn’t die, I didn’t get tortured, Clarke, you, Miller, Raven, we all didn’t get locked up and almost die, to make the same mistakes, to kill in response to killing.”

Clarke spoke up next to him. “This is how we get to peace.”

Murphy took a deep breath and he could see Raven looking at him like she already knew which way he’d land. Like she believed that he’d do the right thing. Bellamy realized he did too, he knew his brother and he knew that however pissed off or pessimistic Murphy was or acted, that he was always on their side.

“What the hell?” Murphy said with a grin. “Let’s be good guys.”

\------------------------

“Hey.”

Bellamy walked up to Clarke, who was sitting on one of the rocks on the edge of the beach, bundled up so heavily he would hardly be able to tell that it was her if anyone else in the village was ever as cold as she was. 

Well, maybe Murphy. But he wasn’t exactly prone to sitting still - ever, and didn’t make a habit of sitting on the beach to think like Clarke did.

She twisted around, peering up at him. It had been a couple of days since they talked to everyone about what they were wanting to do, and everyone agreed that they needed to sit on what they were about to undertake before they made any solid plans.

“Hey.”

“Why are you out here? It’s freezing.”

“Oh is Mr. I’ve Always Run Hot getting chilly finally?” she teased. He chuckled and sat behind her, placing one leg on each side of her so she could rest back on his chest and he could wrap his arms around her. “You know, months ago when you and I were talking, you told me what the beach looked like with snow on it, that I’d love it.”

“And? What’s the verdict?”

Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. “I think I still prefer summer.”

He let out a loud rumble of laughter and as hard as she tried to maintain her frown, he could see the corners of her lips turn up. 

“Come on! It’s - ”

“A pain in the ass,” she interrupted. He shook his head. “I mean, sure, it’s pretty,” Bellamy quirked one eyebrow up, “Fine, _really_ pretty. But I miss the graininess of the sand, the way my finger felt running through it, you know? And actually being able to go _into_ the water without losing a toe.”

“Fair points,” he said, squeezing her a little bit, the best he could through all the layers. He dipped his head down to kiss the fleshy spot behind her ear and he swore he actually felt her shiver.

“Plus, you have to wear _so many_ layers,” she mumbled, leaning farther back into him.

“Again, fair point,” he murmured back, dipping his head down again to pepper her neck with a few more kisses. “So what brings you down here?” 

“I, uh, told your mother I’d visit today so I thought I’d stop here first, try to come up with… something. And we’re going to have to have her signal Luna at some point, we need her approval.”

He frowned a little. “Luna isn’t going to like it.” Clarke just hummed. “It’s going to be tough, getting her to back our play.”

“We just need a solid plan that doesn’t involve killing everyone. She’s - she has to understand.” Clarke said with determination and he recognized that tone. It was the one that said there was no room for disagreement, the one that said there was no other option.

“Fighting for peace. Bit of an oxymoron, don’t you think?”

“There won’t be any fighting if we have a good enough strategy. It’s our only choice if we want to make things better for the clans.” She smiled to herself. “Only choice - that’s an oxymoron too.” She sighed. “I just don’t want anyone to live in fear anymore. That’s all the Ark was. That’s no life.”

“I love you, you know that?”

He did. He loved her heart and soul and how dedicated she was to making life better for everyone. The village needed her to come out of this alive and well, _he_ needed her to come of it alive and well. 

Any other option was no option at all.

***

“What about a vote of no confidence? We could send word to the other clans - ” Lincoln suggested.

“And risk them alerting Ontari? She has fucking spies everywhere!” Murphy pointed out.

“It’s something Luna would vote for, and something even Ontari couldn’t refute - she’d have to step down, she wouldn’t have a choice,” Lincoln refuted.

“Again, that’s still bringing a lot of people I don’t trust in on this,” Murphy insisted. “Maybe Trikru, Trishanakru or Louwoda Kliron, but Sankru? Boudalankru? They are loyal to Azgeda and the vote needs all twelve to pass.”

“And the element of surprise is going to be our biggest advantage,” Raven spoke up. “I’m sorry, Lincoln, I have to agree with Murphy. If she’s able to strategize her way out of the vote before we get there - ”

“It’s still the best way to avoid bloodshed!” Lincoln persisted. Clarke had never seen the man more passionate about almost anything. Octavia, his child, but that’s about it. Most of the time he was pretty impassive. Smart, strong, but he was always more prone to a wait and see approach.

“You’re both right,” Bellamy told the three of them, coming to stand in the middle. Octavia was off to the side, her arms folded and scowling. Clarke noticed she wasn’t clear which side she agreed with, but she would most likely back her husband. “Lincoln, that would be the quickest, easiest way _if_ they all agree. It’s also the one Luna is most likely to support. You’re right about that. But Murphy isn’t wrong either in that it’s extremely unlikely _all_ clans will endorse it _and_ we can’t risk Ontari finding out what we’re up to.”

They were in the middle of their first brainstorming session. All of them weren’t present, Harper was needed in the clinic and assured Clarke that she’d be able to handle the patients they had without her. Jasper had opted out, not really wanting to be part of the meeting anyway, so he said he would assist Harper if she needed anything. 

So that left her, Bellamy, Monty, Lincoln, Octavia, Miller, Raven, and Murphy to debate and try to at least get some starting points. 

Or rule out what _wouldn’t_ work. Which is where they were currently at.

It was frustrating. Clarke wanted to just rush forward, full blast, but she couldn’t do that without a plan. 

“What about if we kidnap her? Take her somewhere no one will find her and just, I don’t know, banish her or something?” Miller suggested.

Clarke shook her head. “Even if her guards let us have access to her, we’d never get her out without someone noticing and then the Azgeda army would come down on top of us.”

Bellamy sighed. “I agree with Clarke, everyone knows we have the biggest grudge against her, they’d know it was us and then Sonchahou and hell, all of Floukru would be in danger.”

“Wouldn’t Trikru have our back though? Or Louwod - whatever clan Murphy just talked about?”

“Trikru would, Trishanakru too, but Louwoda Kliron - Shallow Valley clan if that’s easier to say - wouldn’t. They’re incredibly pacifist, they don’t fight except in defense of themselves. But even if they did, we’d still end up in the middle of a war,” Bellamy explained. “Least loss of life,” he reminded everyone, including himself.

“Okay, let’s shift to something else. Raven, Monty,” Clarke turned to address them. “I was thinking last night about what Raven had mentioned in our first meeting about what happens when we get separated. Which, at some point we are going to have to be.”

“Right, the walkie talkies. There’s no tech or anything that transmits here, right?” Raven asked.

Clarke saw Bellamy start shaking his head and Raven’s face fell. She noticed Murphy shifting around and biting his lip off to the side. “Murphy?” she asked slowly.

He stepped forward. “I - uh, might know of something,” he said carefully. Raven’s eyes got wider as they waited for him to finish. “When I was younger - um, before Aurora found me,” he started, his eyes refusing to focus on anyone. It was clear this wasn’t a time of his life that he enjoyed sharing with anyone else, let alone a room full of people. “I spent most of my time in the woods, sleeping in trees or caves or whatever,” he shrugged, but swallowed heavily. She saw Raven shift silently over to him, inconspicuously to anyone who wasn’t noticing what she was doing. 

She was grateful Murphy had someone to do that for him like Bellamy supported her. It was easier when you didn’t feel like you were standing alone. 

“Well one of my favorite hiding spots was underground, actually. I tripped over something metal and when I realized it was an Old Earth vehicle, I worked to get the door to release and stayed inside there. I don’t know if you would be able to use any of it, but I figured - ” Murphy cut himself off shrugging. 

The silence sat in the room for a few moments until Raven gripped his shoulders and planted a kiss on him. Murphy responded immediately, arms coming up to wrap around her and pull her in closer. That was the last thing Clarke saw though before she averted her eyes like the rest of them in the room, giving them a little privacy. She was sure that wasn’t their first kiss, but it was definitely the first one in front of any of them.

With an audible smack, the kiss ended and she heard Raven exclaim. “You’re a fucking _genius_.”

Clarke finally looked up to see a huge grin plastered on his face and his cheeks flush as he reached up to rub the back of his neck awkwardly. “Yeah, well, you know. I’ve been telling people that for years,” he murmured.

“Monty!” Raven exclaimed and Murphy rolled his eyes.

“No, I’m _Murphy_ ,” he teased and pretended to be offended.

Raven smirked and smacked him in the chest. “Shut up.” Then she twisted around to face Monty, who had stood up from his seat at the table. Clarke noticed Murphy’s hands stayed on Raven’s waist. 

“I’m all over it. If the parts are - ”

“But what - ”

“The pod maybe? Is there - ”

“I don’t think - ”

“Only if the - ”

“Map!” Raven called out. It took a minute before anyone realized she was talking to them though, since she and Monty had started speaking in short half sentences and arm gestures and firing off a lot of unfinished phrases that none of them were tracking with. Clarke wasn’t sure when exactly they’d been able to start reading minds, but apparently they had because there was literally no actual information in anything they were saying. “Map!” Raven repeated.

“Oh! Us, right. Lincoln,” Bellamy startled, shaking his head a little and Clarke had a feeling he’d been just as lost as she was.

Lincoln ran over to the corner where they kept their battle plans, blueprints, maps and other various documents. He produced a long roll of paper, with their village and surrounding areas labeled and drawn. Raven stepped out of Murphy’s embrace, but grabbed his hand, dragging him to the table. 

“Where?”

“You want to start using complete sentences at some point for the rest of us laypeople, Raven?” Octavia asked.

Raven looked up from the map where Murphy was currently squinting at, running one of his fingers across the surface, clearly trying to remember something. She looked like she was just remembering there were other people in the room.

“Right. Sorry. There’s a couple different options this affords us, actually. Old Earth vehicles had transmitters, radios that they used to play music in like we had on the Ark,” she started explaining, and Clarke knew what a radio was, obviously, but she saw the question marks in Lincoln, Murphy, Bellamy, and Octavia’s eyes. “We can try to use parts from that radio - ”

“And combine it with the radio parts on the Pod that Raven came down in, and between the two transmitters we might have enough tech to pull off short range walkie talkies. And Bob’s your uncle.” Monty finished and Raven rolled her eyes and folded her arms.

“I hate that expression,” she told him and Monty just shrugged. “If we can get the right parts, we can get a couple built, no problem.”

Clarke nodded. “You said there were two options.”

Monty spoke up. “Yeah, Old Earth had portable phones, like walkie talkies, already built. If the vehicle had one or two of those sitting in there, we might be able to modify them so we could use that too. We could have three, maybe even four different ones we could distribute between whatever groups we end up having.”

Clarke bit her lip and looked at Bellamy who looked completely lost. “Don’t look at me, I have no idea what the hell you all are talking about.”

Miller was the one who voiced her thoughts. “But don’t we still need a power source? Even if the parts are good, you still need juice.”

“Juice? We have juice,” Octavia mumbled. 

“Not the kind you drink. Um, like gasoline? Or batteries? A charger? That kind of thing right?” Miller asked.

Raven sucked in a breath and looked unsure. “Yeah, like that. That’s where the tricky part will come in. I can grab the battery out of the Pod when we go, but it may not be enough. We may need to - ”

“Don’t say it. That’s not an option,” Clarke interrupted, seeing where she was headed.

“We may not have an option. We need power from _somewhere_ , and the dropship is the best place to get it.”

She saw Bellamy’s eyes go wide. “Azgeda has that under their control. If we get caught - ”

“Then we won’t get caught.”

“Raven - ”

“I don’t like it anymore than you do, Clarke. But the ability to communicate between the different groups could be the difference between success and failure on a mission like this,” Raven insisted.

“What exactly are the odds we’ll have to go anyway? What’s left of the Pod?”

“A lot, actually. After you left the field that day, Finn was anxious to get back to the dropship so I only grabbed my stuff and the portable radio. The main communication system is still there though, and whatever fuel didn’t leak out when I crashed. I always meant to go back, but he kept me on kind of a short leash,” she told them, her voice a mixture of disgust and shame. Clarke saw Murphy grab her hand.

“So we may not even need the dropship, right?” Monty asked, quiet. The dropship represented a lot of really awful memories for all of them, and Clarke could tell none of them were particularly anxious to go back there.

“Okay, here’s what we’re going to do,” Bellamy said, taking charge again. Even if he had no idea about any kind of tech, making plans, leading, strategizing, that was all in his blood. “Raven, Monty, Murphy, and Miller, you guys figure out who’s visiting that vehicle and when. It could be buried under the snow so we may need to wait a week or two until it’s gone.” He hesitated, glancing at Clarke. “ _If_ it becomes necessary to send a team out to the dropship… we’ll cross that bridge when we come to it.”

Clarke took a deep breath. “And since the rest of us, aside from myself, were born and raised here, we’ll run through different ideas on how to get Ontari to abdicate and how to get Luna on board.”

Clarke looked around at each one of them, at the determination and motivation in her family’s eyes, each of them dedicated to making life better for the clans, for their people. 

She believed that they could do this.

\------------------------

Clarke had an idea. Finally.

It had come to her during dinner, when she was going over every idea that they’d had.

The problem was, there were about a hundred different ways it could go wrong. A hundred contingencies that they’d have to plan for. 

But.

If they could pull it off, if they could convince all parties that would need to be involved to go along with it… it actually had potential. 

Then there was the other problem - she was pretty sure Bellamy wouldn’t like it. He wasn’t going to want anything to do with it. He wouldn’t like having to put their fates in the hands of someone they couldn’t ever truly trust. 

But.

Clarke really thought this might be the best way to avoid the most bloodshed.

She just had to convince Bellamy.

So when they got home that evening after dinner, exhausted from arguing and brainstorming and cold from the winter that Clarke was sure would never end, she plopped down on the rug in front of the fireplace and pulled out the one of the five decks of cards Jasper and Miller had swiped before they left the dropship for the village. She’d been teaching Bellamy a variety of games since she’d been back.

Bellamy got to work on the fireplace, coaxing the flames to life in half the time Clarke could, before sitting down across from her. She shuffled the cards probably one too many times and she could feel his eyes on her.

“What?” she asked, when she looked up to see him staring at her intently. “Do I have food on my face or something?” 

He narrowed his eyes. “What's wrong?”

“Nothing’s wrong,” she shrugged, starting to deal out the cards so they could play Go-Fish. It was the first one she’d taught him, and while it was pretty simple, Clarke figured a game that neither had to think too hard about would be good while they had this conversation. It’d keep their hands busy, but they’d still be able to focus on each other. 

And nothing was _wrong_ , but she smiled a little at the fact he knew that there was something on her mind. She remembered when she used to hate that he could read her so well. Now, it was comforting. 

“I have a thought,” she finally said.

“Yes, I know you have _lots_ of thoughts, it’s part of why I love you,” he said with a smirk. 

“Ha ha. I have a thought about _Polis_. An idea.”

Bellamy hummed as he scrunched his eyes, trying to read his cards in the dim light. 

“An idea about Polis,” he repeated. “Any eights?” he asked, finally looking up at her.

Clarke sighed. “Two,” she told him, handing them over. “Tens?”

He shook his head. “Nope. Go fishing,” he said proudly. “You going to tell me what those thoughts are? Because as much as I wish I could, I can’t actually read your mind, Princess.”

Clarke took a card from the center stack and added it to her hand. “First of all, you just say ‘go fish’ not ‘go fish _ing_ ’ - ”

“I like my way better.”

“ - and yes. I’m planning on sharing my thoughts. I just - ” Clarke took a deep breath. “It has to do with Roan.”

By all intents and purposes, he didn’t react. His expression never changed, his body posture remained, his breathing never hitched. Yet somehow, it was like all the air was sucked out of the room and she could practically see how his eyes filled with apprehension, even though he wasn’t even looking at her, staring intensely at the cards, and could feel how his muscles were flexed and tensed, though she wasn’t touching him.

“Bellamy - ”

“Any Queens?”

She handed the one Queen she had _just_ drawn from the pile, only slightly irritated how she’d been playing this game since she was four, yet somehow he always knew which card to ask for.

Maybe he _could_ read her mind. 

“Come on. Please let me lay it out before you spiral.”

He sighed and finally looked at her. “Give me a little credit, hmm? I’m not spiraling. I just - don’t think involving him is a good idea,” he said calmly. His face remained impassive, but she knew he had to work for it to remain that way.

“I’m not saying we _trust_ him - ”

“Good.”

“Hey! You trusted him when you came to get me from Polis!” she pointed out, forgetting about the game in front of them for a minute.

“That was different.”

“Yeah? How?” she asked, eyebrows raised.

“I didn’t have a choice. If I didn’t you were going to have to _marry him_ , Clarke. He’s Ontari’s _brother_ , for fuck’s sake.”

“I’m aware. I spent _three weeks_ with the man. And while yes, he’s the Prince of Azgeda and his loyalty is with them…”

Here it was. The best argument she was going to have for working with Roan. 

“It is with _them_. Not Ontari.”

“In the end, it’s the same.”

“It’s not, Bell. You saw yourself how unhappy he was with Ontari’s decision to have him marry me, or torture you. He helped get us out, gave us supplies, horses. Shit, he’s even _killed_ his own clan members to - ”

“It’s not the same as asking a brother to betray his sister. Would you have betrayed Wells, no matter what he’d done? Would you ask me to betray Octavia?” 

“Even Roan knows she shouldn't be in charge, Bellamy. And our plan isn’t to kill her. She should be locked up for what she’s done.”

“No. Clarke, she should be dead for what she’s inflicted on the coalition and countless innocent people. But you were right, it’s about stopping the cycle of ‘blood must have blood’. So how exactly would he help us with that?”

“Well, first of all, Ontari has the Flame, right? We need another nightblood to take it once we convince her to give it up. We’ve been so focused on _how_ we’ll get Ontari to give it up, but I think the bigger question is what will happen when she does?”

“Luna has a hard enough time being in Sonchahou instead of her Rig, you really think she’s going to take the Flame and move Floukru to Polis?”

“Well, no, she’d never agree to that. But this is where Roan comes in.”

His lips parted slightly and his eyes widened, and she knew he could see where she was headed. It’d come to her when they were talking about Azgeda attacking them if they kidnapped Ontari. That plan still wouldn’t work for other reasons, but she realized that Azgeda was going to want retaliation no matter what plan they went with.

“Azgeda won’t be happy we’ve usurped them from power. So what if we convince Luna to take the Flame and rule the twelve clans from her Rig? And Roan would be her proxy in Polis. Azgeda would remain in control of the city, they’d have their Azgeda ruler - King Roan. They’ll listen to him if he orders no retaliation. He’d be able to keep an eye on Ontari in the dungeons, and Luna would get to stay in the middle of her ocean.”

“And Sonchahou basically becomes the go-between, the place the clans go to request an audience with the Commander for things above Roan’s head.”

“Exactly. Who says Polis has to be in _Polis_?” 

“Tradition.”

“Well, maybe it’s time to adjust the traditions, just slightly,” Clarke suggested. “Do you have any Kings?” she asked him, smiling widely, eyebrows raised. The more she talked about it, the more sure she was it was going to work for everyone. 

He grinned, “Go fishing.”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Really? You have _no_ kings?”

He shrugged. “You realize that means we have to trust that Roan will do what’s best for the coalition if people come to him for things, which they will?”

“I know. I’m not super happy about that part. But I really think we can, and I swear with the way the warriors and other members of Azgeda looked to him when I’m there, he’s the only one who would be able to keep them from revolting once Ontari is out of power.” Clarke drew a card - a three, which she had none in her hand to pair it with. “The current noviates are too young and aren’t ready for another Conclave, and Ontari and Luna were part of the same class. It only makes sense for Luna to take over when Ontari is gone.”

He just stared at her, working his lip between his teeth. Then he ran a hand through his hair, his mind was obviously running a hundred miles an hour. 

“You know there’s about a hundred different ways that plan could go wrong?”

“Then let’s find a hundred different solutions to go with them. Bell, this will work. I know you don’t trust Roan, I know that convincing Luna to take the Flame will require nothing short of a fucking miracle. I know we still have to figure out how to convince Ontari to abdicate. But, _this will work_. I can feel it.”

His eyes were still staring straight at her, but what was simmering behind it was different. It wasn’t as nervous, as apprehensive as it had been a second ago. A small smile bloomed on his lips.

“It’s your turn,” Clarke pointed out. “Ask for a card.”

“I trust you. I believe you. Let’s do it,” he told her, determined. She smiled wide, excited that they finally had a direction to go in. “And I don’t really feel like playing cards anymore.” Bellamy set his cards down on the floor and before she could even register what was happening, he’d reached across the pile in the middle and grabbed her wrist, tugging her over to him. 

She fell into him less than gracefully, but he of course caught her, swinging her legs over so she was sitting sideways on his crossed lap. 

She gave him a soft kiss, pulling back after a moment, and her heart fluttered as it always did when his lips chased after hers. “So what do you want to do instead?” she teased. “Because I was seriously thisclose to kicking your ass.”

His sweet, soft smile turned smug and his eyebrows lifted. “You were, huh? So why was I the one winn -”

She cut him off before he could finish his sentence and his arms responded immediately, one hand flying up to her neck to hold her mouth to his, and the other tightening its hold around her waist. He tilted his head so he could deepen the kiss and whatever retort she’d had ready for him flew out of her mind in the face of their eagerness for each other. 

“Do you have any idea what you do to me when you take the lead? When you fight for justice?” he asked cheekily, whispering against her throat as he kissed down her neck, from her jaw to her collarbone and back up again.

She couldn’t help the moan that escaped from her mouth - not that she was trying all that hard - and when she spoke, somewhere in her mind she registered how breathless she sounded. “Y - you make me sound like Wonder Woman or something,” she stuttered as he brought his hand up from her waist to her chest and suddenly the fire a foot away from them was far too warm. 

“I don’t know who that is, but that sounds about right,” he murmured, head dipping lower and lower and she let out a chuckle.

“Oh Samson you know, but not Wonder Woman? Figures,” she joked, and his head snapped up to frown at her. “Kidding, obviously,” she added and he just smiled and shook his head.

“Our book supply is a little limited down here and besides, why would I need to read about Wonder Woman when she’s right here?”

“That’s terrible. Truly the worst line I think I’ve ever heard,” she admonished and she felt him smile against her skin.

“Did it work?”

“Hell yeah,” she admitted and lifted his head up hers so she could kiss his lips again, his taste too intoxicating to go very long without. When her fingers found their way into his hair, they alternated between scratching lightly and tugging on his curls and in one fluid motion he was standing, his arms flexed with how firm his hold was on her, carrying her over to their bed.

Maybe it wasn’t the fire making her so warm because even though it was all the way across the cabin, her skin still felt like it was aflame.

Maybe she knew it wasn’t the fire all along.

Bellamy dropped her unceremoniously on the blankets with a smug grin on his face, tugging his shirt off before joining her.

It wasn’t long before her shirt joined his on the floor, but it took far longer for their pants as he seemed perfectly content with making her burn longer, memorizing every inch of her torso with his lips before finally giving in to the whines her voice was making involuntarily.

It was the most relaxed she’d felt in a while, her brain finally able to breathe with clarity now that they had a plan, a direction to go in and she was able to shut down the wheels that had been turning constantly, focusing only on the way Bellamy moved with her, the roughness of his hands against her smooth skin, and the way he poured all of the emotion and care and warmth he had for her in every movement, every sensation, every point of contact between their bodies.

Clarke fell asleep quicker that night than she had in a week, feeling at peace and calm and wrapped up in the arms of her partner, her love, the one who stood next to her through it all.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Yay! We have a direction! Thoughts? Theories? 
> 
> I was planning on updating again Thursday or Friday, but again, please let me know how you all are feeling about that, I want to be sensitive and considerate to those who might not feel like it's appropriate. 
> 
> Come find me on my [tumblr](http://dayo488.tumblr.com/) if you'd like!
> 
> I hope you all are staying safe and healthy ❤


	27. Chapter 27

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hi everyone! I'm so sorry this is a little later than normal. It's a beast (almost 10k) and it took a while to edit. Plus, with us getting so close to the end, I'm really trying to make sure it's the way I want/need it to be, so that takes more time as well. 
> 
> Thank you everyone for commenting and reading and kudos-ing and I look forward to the next 5 chapters or so ending this tale with all of you!
> 
> I hope you are staying safe and healthy!  
> ❤

To say that Bellamy was nervous, was a _vast_ understatement. It wasn’t that he doubted Clarke’s plan, or couldn’t acknowledge that it was probably the most likely plan to actually work, but it was still risky.

Of course, any plan that they came up with would be. It was always going to be risky; they knew that when they decided to overthrow the leader of the human race. But they also knew that risk was worth it. That making life better for the clans, of what might be the last of all humanity except for the Ark, would be worth it.

That didn’t mean he wouldn’t be a complete frayed ball of nerves until it was finished however.

After deciding on what they wanted to present to Luna as their ideal outcome after removing Ontari from power (which was a part of the plan that hadn’t been fully formed yet, as it was the most unpredictable of the entire operation), they waited until winter had started clearing, which thankfully was only a couple weeks after their discussion. 

Bellamy was getting ready to send a team out to the vehicle that Murphy told them about. It wasn’t far, about half a day’s hike, but there wasn’t an exact coordinate since Murphy had been so young and it had been awhile since he’d been there. Then the team headed for the Pod would leave when they got back. Raven tried to insist on going on both trips, but because of her leg, they talked her into only going to the closer one, since she hadn’t made any long trips with her brace yet and even walking from one end of the village to the other caused her pain. With both trips being back to back, it just wasn’t a good idea.

She wanted to go on the main mission as well and Bellamy was more nervous about that one, especially since if things went wrong, she wouldn’t be able to make a run for it like the rest of them, but if Monty was staying in the village, they would need a tech person with them in case something went wrong with the radios. 

Murphy, Raven, Miller and Lincoln were set to leave that morning for the vehicle and while they were gone, Bellamy and Clarke would visit Luna. Anya, who knew the general idea of what they were up to, would be left in charge of the village while they were all gone. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust Anya, he’d known her a long time and she was in charge of his warriors and the village when he was not present, but he wanted to keep the details of their strategy as close as possible. The fewer ears that heard it, the better likelihood they had of pulling it off.

Bellamy walked into the dining hall for dinner, planning on having one last meal with everyone before they started diving into their scheme, because once they got that ball rolling, and Luna gave her blessing to move forward, it was going to get really busy with preparations. 

The only one of them in the hall however was Octavia, whose plate was piled high with sweets. He frowned a little, his overprotective big brother tendencies rearing their head. 

“Please tell me you’ve eaten dinner already. A full, well rounded, healthy meal,” he asked her. 

Her head snapped around so fast he was genuinely concerned his sister might end up with whiplash and the glare she gave him was nothing short of terrifying. 

“For your information, I have. But even if I hadn’t, this baby is ravenous for sweets and I am not going to deny my child.”

He opened and closed his mouth about a dozen more times, so many things on the tip of his tongue, but instead he opted to do the safe thing and just let her make her own choices. “You seen Clarke?” he asked her, changing the subject before he got his head bitten off.

“Yes, actually. She’s in the clinic with Harper.”

“Still? She’s been there since before dawn,” he commented, furrowing his brows a little. He’d have to make a stop there on his way home that night. 

“Yeah, one of the kids came in with a broken arm and some scratches a couple hours ago, so she was busy making sure it was set and the scratches cleaned up.”

“Oh,” he frowned a bit again. “That makes sense. Who was it? Are they okay?”

Octavia waved a hand off. “Yeah, of course. It’s just Madi. She was worried about the black blood on her scratches and was super bummed that she won't be able to climb trees for a while, but I saw Adele sigh with relief when Clarke told her that so I don’t think she wants Madi doing it anyway.”

He smiled and shook his head. Madi was such a strong willed child, always up for the next big adventure and getting into trouble; she reminded him a lot of himself when he was that age. He’d had more broken bones as a kid than as an adult who actually went to battle.

“You know that’ll be your kid at some point. It’s practically in our blood to get in some form of trouble,” he smirked, biting into his chicken.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about, my child will be the most - ” she stopped herself, breaking into a fit of laughter and Bellamy couldn't help but join her. “Nope, can’t do it. This kid will be getting into all kinds of trouble for sure.”

“Poor Lincoln. A mini-O. I’d give him tips on raising someone like you, but to be honest I’m not even sure how I survived.”

She threw a carrot at him. “Very funny. And I think you did alright. Look at me, I’m pretty cool,” she said smugly, clearly complimenting herself more than him. 

“Yeah, you’re alright,” he told her, smiling. She reciprocated with a wide one of her own. 

“So, Bell…” she started, her serious tone slipping to the forefront and all hints of teasing were suddenly gone from her voice. 

“No.”

She furrowed her brows. “You don’t even know what I’m going to say.”

He raised an eyebrow at her and cocked his head. “So you weren’t about to make the case for coming with us to Polis?”

Her lip caught her teeth, effectively confirming his suspicion. 

“I’m not saying put me on the front lines, but I can go. I can do this. You can’t bench me just because I’m pregnant.”

“Watch me.”

“Bellamy Blake! I’m not kidding around here!”

Bellamy sighed and put his fork down. “I’m not either. If something happened to either one of you, I would never forgive myself.”

She reached across the table and put a hand on his. “I know. But it’s not on you. You aren’t sending me into battle, but I should be there. I need to be there. I won’t overdo it, and I’ll hang back the first sign of anything wrong. But Clarke will be there, right? Isn’t it a good thing I’m traveling with my healer?”

“Harper is more than - ”

“I know, Bell, but I should be by your side. The way it’s supposed to be,” she said, quieter, like she was making a plea more than a demand. It was something he wasn’t used to hearing from her. Usually if she disagreed with him, she was _loud_ , she was _imposing_ , she was _insistent_. But she sounded like she really did want him to be on her side.

And he’d always be on her side. Always. That was what made this decision all the more difficult. He wanted so badly to protect her from all possible harm, but she wasn’t going to hide, she wasn’t going to run. That just wasn’t who she was. 

When she was little, she was his responsibility. It was a phrase his mother used, constantly, to remind him. _His sister, his responsibility_. And he never resented her for it, it was what it was and he loved getting to raise his little sister and watch over her. 

But she was grown now. She was married, and in four-ish months, she would be a mother. She was his sister, she always would be, but she was no longer his responsibility.

And it was supposed to be a peaceful take-over anyway. Hopefully. If it all went according to plan. 

“Okay, O. Okay,” he relented, and she squealed and stood and reached over the table at him, her arms going around his neck in a vise. “But seriously, the first sign of battle or danger…”

“I’ll hang back. I promise.”

She sat back down, eyes bright and sparkling with excitement, the way they would get when he brought home a treat when they were younger, or told her they were going out riding horses, or when he taught her to swim. They spent so much time together when they were little, she knew him in a way only a sister could. 

“When do you guys leave for Luna’s Rig?” she asked.

“Tomorrow, late morning. I don’t know how long we’ll be gone, but I’m hoping we’ll be back before dark. We want to see the group off first.”

O nodded in understanding. “You really think she’ll listen? That she’ll support this?”

He sighed. “I - I don’t know,” he answered honestly. “She was very specific, when I went to her a few weeks ago about getting Clarke back. She doesn’t want a war. Which, neither do we, obviously, but - ”

“But we don’t know exactly _what’s_ going to happen.”

He nodded. “Exactly. But if there’s anyone who will be able to talk her into it, it’s going to be Clarke.”

Octavia let out a laugh. “Yes, definitely. She doesn’t take no for an answer; she’s too stubborn.”

“Who’s stubborn?” a voice asked from behind him, putting a hand on his back. He twisted around to see Clarke with an eyebrow raised.

“Oh that would be you, wife,” he told her. Clarke gave him a fake look of annoyance.

“What? Me? Stubborn?” she asked innocently, and she bent down to give Bellamy a quick kiss on the lips. “Hey,” she smiled at him.

“And I thought Monty and Harper were gross,” another voice sounded, and Bellamy shoved at Murphy when he got close enough. Raven stepped out the way so she wouldn’t get caught in the middle.

“Hey!” Harper said, rounding the doorway. “I heard that!”

“It’s not like it’s a secret,” Murphy continued to tease, earning a glare from Harper, who was just behind them with Monty.

Clarke slid in next him, setting her tray of food next to his. His arm automatically came up to wrap around her waist. He leaned over. “How’s Madi?”

Clarke let out a little chuckle. “Oh she’s fine. She’s Madi,” she shrugged. “She’ll have to take it easy, but she’s good.” Bellamy just smiled and shook his head. “Everything okay?” she asked. 

“Yeah, why?”

“Because you’re a little twitchy and on edge.”

He shook his head again. “Yeah, I’m okay. O and I just had a conversation about her coming with us to Polis.”

He felt Clarke tense under his arm. “Oh yeah?”

“Yeah, I told her it was fine, as long as things remain non-violent.”

She put a hand up to his cheek. “I’m sure that was hard for you.”

“I can’t control her, nor should I try. I’m just - ”

“ - worried,” Clarke finished. He nodded and she gave him another quick kiss before dropping her hand. 

“You guys, I think this might be the first time I don’t feel like a human icicle in months!” Murphy was telling them in exasperation. 

“How is it that I’ve never even experienced seasons and yet somehow I’m not nearly as cold as you?” Raven frowned at him.

“It’s because you’re so hot,” Murphy said with a cocky smile. 

Raven scoffed, but Clarke saw her cheeks blush. 

“And you call us gross,” Monty told him. 

“Man’s got a point,” Clarke nodded towards Monty, and he winked back at her. “You guys all set for tomorrow?”

“Yep, just finished getting the details ironed out. Hopefully it’ll be a quick trip. Unless Murphy’s memory is defective, in which case it might take us a little while to find it.”

Murphy pretended to look offended. “Excuse me, I’ll have you know, my memory is impeccable.”

“Right, of course,” Raven amended sarcastically, rolling her eyes.

“Hey, can I go with you and Clarke to Mom’s tomorrow? There’s a few things I want to pick her brain about. I figured while I’m waiting for the two of you to come back, I can hang with her,” O asked him.

“Of course you can.”

They all finished dinner, Lincoln, MIller and Jasper joining them eventually. Jasper and Monty spent their time tossing peanuts back and forth into each other’s mouths until Octavia got in on it and showed them both up. Miller and Raven were in a debate about something, and Bellamy didn’t really know what it was they were talking about - something about the movies they missed the most from the Ark. He remembered Clarke talking about them one night, telling him about the different ones she’d liked, trying to describe what they even were.

It sounded a lot like magic to him, something incomprehensible without being able to see it first hand. 

They all started to part soon after, heading off to their individual cabins. There was something in the air, now that they were so close to beginning the first phase of their plan, their mission that would change life as they knew it. A weight seemed to hang there, like everyone was beginning to understand exactly what it was they were about to embark on, and that it wasn’t just talk or hypotheticals anymore. 

Tomorrow would mark the point of no return, not that anyone was seriously considering pulling out - they were too invested, too motivated to make life better for everyone, but still, it was risky, and the tension was palpable. 

“Hey everyone, listen up, okay?” Bellamy cleared his throat and he caught Clarke’s smile in his peripheral, like she knew this was coming. “Tomorrow we - well, this is big. It’s monumental and it’s important. We’re not just doing this for us, or for Sonchahou or Floukru, we are doing it for every man, woman and child of the twelve clans. No one should have to live in fear that they’ll be killed or tortured for being who they are, for loving who they do - ” He glanced at Clarke who squeezed the hand of his she was holding in encouragement. “ - or for being a nightblood or just for no reason at all. It has to stop, _someone_ has to stop it. And that’s us. We - all of us - have proven that love is strength, peace is strength, _family_ is strength. And we’re going to use that to win. We’re _going to win_.”

He moved a half step closer to Clarke and she responded immediately, curling her other hand around his arm and she looked... proud. He felt his cheeks flush and he ran a hand through his hair. The fact that she believed in him, wanted to stand with him, beside him as they did this, it was everything. 

“Get some rest everyone. We’ll see you in the morning,” she told them quietly and they all went their separate ways, most with smiles on their faces and excitement in their eyes. Once he and Clarke were alone, she looked up at him as they walked. “You know I love you, right?”

He grinned down at her, and kissed the top of her head. “I had a feeling,” he smirked at her.

They didn’t get nearly as much sleep as they should have that night.

***

Excitement buzzed all around them in the air and in their words and hugs as Clarke bid each member of the group of four safe travels. Raven was talking a mile a minute to Monty as they discussed the last few details of what to do and the best way to disconnect the tech from the vehicle. She also was bringing along a notepad with which she was going to take inventory of everything else in there in case they needed something else later.

Miller, Raven, and Jasper’s goodbye was touching, and since she’d been back from Polis, Clarke had been recognizing more and more lately how close the three of them had gotten while they were on their own at the dropship. A lot like her and Monty had, being the only two in Sonchahou from space for a while after they left the dropship. Clarke knew that Raven hadn’t been locked up like the other two, but they were the only ones who were against Finn, and had problems with the decisions he’d been making. That kind of bond goes deep.

Clarke felt like her entire body was a livewire, awake and ready to go. She had sensed everything Bellamy talked about last night, the tension, apprehension, realization of the crazy plan they were about to begin and was nervous, like the rest of them, maybe even more so. It was _her_ plan. If anyone got hurt or things didn’t go the way they needed them to, or they _failed_ completely, it would be her fault. 

It was her idea in the first place to fight for making things better, and she would be the one to shoulder that burden. 

At least, she knew she wouldn’t be shouldering it alone, however selfish that sounded. Clarke knew Bellamy was right with her, every step of the way, supporting her and coming up with ideas and figuring out how to make it work. She knew he was putting it on himself too, as his responsibility to see it through, like she was. 

They stared after them as Murphy, Raven, Lincoln, and Miller disappeared behind the trees. Once they were out of sight, Clarke turned to Bellamy, who had his arm around his sister's shoulders. “You guys ready to head off to the lighthouse?”

“Yeah, I just gotta grab my pack and I’m ready.”

“Great, us too. We’ll meet you at the entrance to the beach?”

O nodded. “See you soon.”

Clarke turned to Harper after O took off down the path. “You sure you’re going to be alright? I don’t know how long this is going to take.”

“Of course I will be. Monty is going to be busy with something over in the greenhouse with the seeds - ”

“Clarke, it’s going to be so amazing. I think I’ve finally cracked how to engineer new ones using - ” Monty interrupted Harper.

“Whatever it is you’re about to say, I’m going to be really excited about, but still not comprehend a damn thing,” Clarke told him.

“Got it.”

“ _Anyway_ , Monty is doing his thing so Jasper volunteered to be the go - between. He’s going to help Monty with his seeds, but check back every hour or so in case I get bogged down,” she told her. 

“Okay, that sounds good.”

Clarke had talked to Monty about a week ago about the seeds, wanting to get those planted and ready to go for spring as soon as possible. Sonchahou never had any shortage of food, at least not for a few years, but she figured the more the better. Especially if or when the Ark came down, Bellamy had already agreed to partner with them in helping them understand the ground and how to hunt and farm and just generally help them adjust, so Clarke wanted to be ready with a surplus of food so Sonchahou’s resources wouldn’t be stretched too thin. 

She’d been thinking about the Ark a lot lately, her parents, the friends she’d left behind, how Theolonius still didn't know about Wells. It hurt in a way that was lasting, a sting to her heart whenever she thought about her brother. She was better with handling it now, understanding the wave of grief, but she knew that might get worse when she had to recount it all.

_If_ the Ark even came down at all.

“Okay, nothing left to do but bite the bullet,” she told Bellamy squeezing his hand to bring herself back down. 

He cocked his head and looked at her quizzically. 

“Right. Bite the bullet wouldn't be a phrase you would use. It just means like go for it. Time to go, face the music, that sort of thing.”

“Whatever. Bite the bullet time, I guess,” he tried and Clarke grinned and shook her head a little. 

“That’s - yeah, right. Come on. _Hoz op_ , Blake.”

“See, now that one I know,” he teased.

\------------------------

Clarke had to agree with Murphy, she was eternally grateful that the worst of winter seemed to be behind them, since the snow had almost completely cleared, and the sun was sunning more often than not. It was still cold, chilly even through several layers of clothing, but having the sun warm her face and the green and brown and other colors of the village visible again gave her a renewed sense of excitement. She’d never seen flowers blooming or watching as the animals woke from their slumber, or see the trees that had lost their leaves in the fall start to fill up again.

It was still a little early for that, but it was coming, it was in the air. That feeling of new life, of joy and of warmth was starting to seep into her consciousness, even if the temperature was still lower than Clarke would like it to be.

“You’re here! _Monin_ , come in, come in,” Aurora gushed, ushering the three of them inside her small home. “ _Cheket_ , Octavia, _ai snogon_ , you look so beautiful!” she exclaimed when she saw the bump that was seemingly growing more pronounced every day on her daughter’s abdomen. “How are you feeling? Clarke, dear, how is she?” she asked both of them, wrapping her daughter in a hug.

Clarke and O exchanged a glance, as Bellamy just hung in the back a smile full of mirth and pride on his face.

“Good,” they answered in unison. 

“No kicks, yet, Mom, but Clarke said it’s still a little early, I’m still a couple weeks away from halfway.”

“Mmm hmm,” Aurora hummed and nodded.

“Anytime now, though,” Clarke smiled at her mother-in-law and soon was embraced by Aurora as well. 

“Well these things happen when they happen, I didn’t feel Bellamy kick for weeks after I supposed to, but then he never stopped!” 

“Come on Mom,” Bellamy said off to her right, not quite embarrassed, but Clarke could tell he hadn’t been expecting the focus to be on him. 

“Oh stop, Bellamy,” she admonished, making both Clarke and Octavia giggle. “At least I’m not telling them how you came out and immediately started sucking your thumb. I could barely get it out of your mouth long enough to - ”

“Mom!” 

Clarke and Octavia were in stitches, tears pricking the corners of Clarke’s eyes. And it wasn’t even because of the thumb sucking, considering that wasn’t even at all embarrassing, but Bellamy was reacting like it was some grand secret he’d never wanted to get out and she just _could not stop laughing_.

“Okay, okay. So Clarke, have the two of you talked yet about giving me another grandbaby? Octavia’s little one will certainly want a little cousin to - ”

Bellamy interrupted his mother again. “No, Mom, we have not talked about that yet. Been a little busy,” he glared at her. But then he glanced at Clarke and she knew him well enough to know that while yes, they were very busy and had more pressing matters at hand, he still had that hopeful look in his eyes, trying to hide behind his irritation.

“I’m sure it will be high on our list of priorities when we get back,” Clarke offered up, wanting to give that hope to both of them. 

Truth was, Clarke hadn’t ever really thought about being a mother, at least not while she was on the Ark. And then since she’d been on the ground, she’d only ever know scattered moments of peace before the next catastrophe. 

But looking at her family around her, knowing what an amazing father Bellamy would be, imagining their peaceful, calm life next to the ocean with her friends, she couldn’t see herself not having children. The thought was a little sobering, but also incredibly thrilling in a way she hadn’t expected.

Bellamy’s eyes were soft when she said that and he smirked a little.

“Oh that’s _wonderful_ , my loves.”

“Okay, well if we’re done with the inquisition, Clarke and I kind of have somewhere to go?” Bellamy reminded them.

“Oh yes, yes, let me run up and light the torch to signal the Rig. The boat will be by soon enough to collect you,” Aurora informed them, moving to pull her jacket off the rack. 

Bellamy spoke up, “Actually, Mom, Clarke has never been up there, I thought I’d take her up and show her how it worked… if that’s okay.”

Aurora smiled at her son. “Of course it is, Octavia and I will be down here, eating an early lunch if you need anything. Do you want to take some food with you?”

Bellamy looked at Clarke, cocking his head a little in question, but Clarke shook her head. Her stomach was doing all sorts of flip flops over this - one of the most important, if not THE most important step in getting their plan off the ground. Luna was going to be tough to sell on it and it was basically all Clarke had been able to think about since coming up with the idea.

“No, we’re good. Hopefully it’ll be a quick trip, but don’t worry if it takes a couple days,” he told them. It was a risk, leaving while Lincoln was gone too, but he told her Anya should be able to hold the fort down on her own while they were gone and if there were any emergencies, they weren’t far and Aurora would be able to flag them back. 

Bellamy bent down to grab and swing his pack over his left shoulder and before Clarke could even think about reaching for hers, he already had it slung over his right. She gave him a look, but he just shrugged and smirked at her. He nodded his head in the direction of a door in the corner of the room. Clarke just stared at it a minute; she’d assumed it was a closet of some sort every other time she’d been there, but when she opened it, she realized it was a staircase. She peered up from the bottom step, seeing it wind all the way to the top of the lighthouse. 

Clarke grew up in space, strictly speaking she shouldn’t be afraid of heights. 

Still, the thought of being up so high was both exhilarating and terrifying. Checking to see Bellamy behind her, watching her carefully, she gripped the rail and started up.

Halfway there, there was a window that looked out the side and she was stunned to see how high they had already gone. Her hand reflexively gripped the rail tighter in response and it was not even a full second before Bellamy’s own warm, steady hand covered hers.

“You doing okay?” he asked softly. 

“Yep,” she answered, clipped, but true. She was fine, a little freaked out, but fine. 

Once they reached the top, she realized why Aurora had grabbed her jacket, it was windy and very chilly being that high up. It wasn’t a large space, only room for the giant bowl that could easily fit two of Bellamy inside in the middle of the round area and a large pile of wood was already sitting in it’s center, ready to be lit. All around them, there were openings overlooking… well, everything - as far as the eye could see. She wondered if they’d be able to see the torch from Polis. And on the East side, there was the largest opening of them all, facing the ocean, and, Clarke presumed, Luna’s Rig. 

She heard Bellamy behind her, dropping their packs on the ground and moving to the torch to get it lit. Clarke stepped closer to the large opening, peering out at the ocean, and the vastness of it was overwhelming. Even from space, seeing the blue and largeness of the oceans, Clarke never dreamed it’d feel like this, that she’d feel so small in the face of something so boundless. 

But there was a measure of comfort that came with that feeling, something humbling and hopeful. The sun glistened on the surface of the water, shimmering with the movement of the water. She felt the heat on her back from where Bellamy obviously had been successful in lighting the fire, but she was too mesmerized by the sight in front of her to bother turning around. 

The heat from the fire was gone all of sudden, and she felt a different warmth behind her as Bellamy’s chest came up to connect with her back, his hands finding her waist and his lips at her ear. 

“What do you think?”

“I… ” Clarke tried, but she couldn’t accurately portray what was running through her mind at the moment. “It’s beautiful,” she finally settled for.

Clarke felt the rumble of his chuckle transfer from his chest to her back and his breath warm against her neck before he kissed the soft spot behind her jaw.

“So what do we do now?” she managed to get out as he continued to kiss his way down her neck and across her shoulder. 

“Mmm, well, we wait for their response - a fire that is lit on their side to show that they’ve seen our’s… ah, like that. Usually only takes a few minutes.” He left her then and she squinted to see that sure enough, in the distance was a tiny flicker and plume of smoke rising in the air. She was impressed she could see fire like that in the daytime. “The Rig is very quick to respond. You’ll need to step aside for this next part though,” he told her. 

Clarke did as she was told, stepping behind the frame of the opening. Bellamy stepped to the other side of the opening, and released a curtain that she hadn’t noticed framing the window. He drew it back and released it again, then quickly did it five more times in rapid succession. 

“This is the signal that we are requesting passage for an important meeting with Luna and Derrick, her husband, if you’ll remember from your first meeting in the village,” he explained. 

“Right.” Clarke peered out of the opening, and while she could still see the fire in the distance, she couldn’t tell if there were any signals being sent back. Bellamy tapped her shoulder and handed her something that resembled a spyglass straight out of one of her books or the museum section on the Ark.

He nodded in the direction of the horizon. She turned and put it up to her eye. The flames of the Rig’s fire filled her vision, the fire in a similar bowl to the one behind her. She could make out the Rig, much bigger than she’d thought it would be, though it would make sense since an entire group of people lived on it. 

It was tall, multiple floors. She could see blurred people around pulling something up from the ocean. Clarke was used to seafood, living in a village by the ocean, but she’d never actually gone fishing. Something large dropped into the water, a couple people inside, and she realized it was a boat, headed for the shore. 

“Looks like they're on their way,” she told him, handing the spyglass back. 

“It’ll take about twenty minutes for them to reach us.”

She hummed a little in acknowledgement, leaning on the opening’s ledge, looking up at the sky like if she tried hard enough she’d be able to see the Ark. “Why are they still up there?” she mused. She didn’t exactly expect Bellamy to have an answer for her, but it was something that had been tumbling around in her head for a while. And being as close to the sky as she was, it was now a question that wouldn’t leave her thoughts.

“I don’t know, I’m sorry.”

“I did the math the other day - they’re late. Like really late. They should have come down by now. The only reasons they wouldn’t - ”

“You can’t think like that Clarke. There could be a hundred reasons why they haven’t.”

“Yet I can only think of the two obvious ones. Either they assumed we all died upon landing on Earth, since we were never able to radio, or - ” she stopped, her voice breaking a little. 

“Or?”

“Or they couldn’t fix the oxygen system in time and… they’re all dead.” It killed Clarke to think that her parents might be still floating up on the Ark, their bodies lying lifeless after the oxygen ran out. They would never know exactly what happened to Clarke, and her them.

He came up behind her, wrapping her in the same position they had been in just a few minutes ago, but instead of it being about desire, it was about comfort. About grounding her with the reminder that she still had a family down on Earth. That she wasn’t alone. 

“They should be here,” she mumbled again, using the back of her hand to wipe the tear from her face. Bellamy put his chin on her shoulder, and leaned his head against hers. Her hand came up to the side of his face, lightly scratching the stubble on his jaw.

“Come on, boat’s almost here.” He withdrew himself from her back, but took her hand in his, tossing both packs over his other shoulder.

\------------------------

As big as it looked from the distance, it didn’t compare to how big it _felt_ once they were actually on the Rig. She spent the entire twenty minute ride of the boat white-knuckling it, not having expected the tossing and turning of the craft. It was not nearly as steady, though she seemed the only one affected by it. Bellamy and the woman guiding the boat, Juel, spent the journey making small talk, like they’d known each other forever, which, Clarke, supposed, might be true.

After about five minutes though, Bellamy had noticed her discomfort and scooted closer to her, wrapping an arm around her waist and while Clarke didn’t allow herself to relax completely, her head had stopped spinning. And it didn’t escape her notice that Juel had watched Bellamy’s movements and affections towards Clarke closely, with that hint of jealousy in her eyes that Clarke had grown used to by now when women realized he was no longer available. 

Bellamy seemed oblivious to it however. 

She wondered what Luna had told her Rig about them, and Bellamy’s marriage to Clarke. Surely she would have said something, but maybe they were still holding out hope that it was a marriage of convenience and not love. 

“ _Monin_ , Bellamy, Clarke. It is so wonderful to finally welcome you aboard our home, Clarke,” Luna greeted. “Thank you Juel, for escorting them over. Lunch is served in the mess, dear.”

Juel tipped her head at Luna in acknowledgement, then gave Bellamy one last longing look and disappeared inside. Clarke saw Luna shake her head and roll her eyes, clearly having noticed the same thing Clarke did.

“ _Spechou_ to Sonchahou’s leader and new co-leader,” she told them, giving each an embrace. “When Bellamy came to me, requesting my blessing with his intention, I was surprised, only having understood your relationship as dispassionate at best. One look at him as he entered our Rig that day and I should’ve known straight away. He was a man in love.”

Clarke blushed a little, and Bellamy ran a hand through his hair. “It’s wonderful to see you Luna, how’s Derrick?”

If it was possible to have literal stars in her eyes, that was exactly what Clarke saw in Luna’s at the mere mention of her husband. “Oh he’s doing well, he’ll meet us in the mess. First, is what you have to discuss with me an emergency?”

“Well, not exactly. But - ” Clarke began. 

“Okay, we eat first then,” she declared, turning swiftly and walking away. Bellamy was clearly more used to this than Clarke was, because he followed close behind, glancing back to make sure Clarke was left behind. She walked quickly to catch up, her arm sliding into his and leaning in.

“Lunch? Shouldn't we tell her why we’re here first?”

He chuckled a little. “I’d love to just have the conversation and then go, but Luna prefers a slower approach. Unless it’s an emergency, she tends to have a time and place for business discussions.” Clarke harrumphed a little, but let it go. Her nerves were on edge and she just wanted to have the discussion and go home. 

They followed Luna into a big room filled with more people than Clarke would have expected to even fit on the Rig and Clarke was beginning to suspect that there was more to it than met the eye. There were no long tables like in Sonchahou’s dining hall, instead, there were smaller, round ones or pelts scattered about for people to eat on the floor. There was a large fire in the middle, and the cooks were cooking their meal out in the open as people wandered up to get their food. 

“Come on,” Bellamy told her, shifting them so their hands were intertwined, and led Clarke over to the place where they got their trays and plates. Luna had disappeared and Clarke was very grateful she wasn’t here on her own to be left to fend for herself. “You know how Maya makes the best chicken? Luna’s chefs are like that with fish,” he told her, with an excitement in his voice she couldn’t help to smile because of. He leaned over, giving her a kiss on the cheek and guided them over to the fire. 

Once they’d had their food and found a place to sit and eat it, she allowed herself to watch the people as they milled about, greeting her and Bellamy as they passed, some expressing their congratulations, some just smiling. They were friendly and treated them as if they had always been there and a part of them. 

Which, Clarke realized, they kind of were. They were all part of one clan, Floukru. It was hard to remember that when they had so few interactions between the two villages. The Rig was so isolated out here, in practically the middle of the ocean, she wondered if they knew just how bad it was in Polis. How awful Ontari was treating them all. 

Luna was Ontari’s one weakness. The one thing in the world she was legitimately afraid of. The one person who could upend her entire hold on the coalition. 

But Luna was passive, which meant that convincing her to stand with them, force Ontari to give up her seat, even if they meant to do it peacefully and without violence, was not going to be an easy task.

“What’s going on in that head of your’s?” Bellamy asked, knocking his shoulder into hers.

Clarke sighed. “I’m just trying to go over how to convince Luna to support our proposal.”

“Well, convincing Luna of anything is no easy task. Especially with something like this. She’s happy with how things are out here. After what she went through as a child, being taken to Polis, trained to kill, to murder the other noviates in her class for power, she… I love and respect her, she is a great leader,” he qualified before continuing. “But she doesn’t stick her neck out anymore. Getting you back, that was an exception she made because I loved you.

“Love means everything to her. But she’s resisted the Flame her entire life. It’s as ingrained in her as much as fighting for justice is in you,” he finished. 

Clarke felt defeated already at his explanation. It seemed completely hopeless to get Luna to support them now. “So why are we even here, Bell, if there’s no hope that Luna will agree?”

He raised his brows at her in surprise. “Did I say there was no hope? I just said it wouldn’t be easy,” he put his piece of breaded fish - which Clarke agreed with his assessment earlier; it was incredibly delicious - down and faced her. “ I believe in you Clarke, more than anything. I believe you could move mountains if you wanted to - to calm storms, to command the wind, all of it. I believe that you’ll be able to do this. That we can do this. We’re in this together, okay?”

She took a deep breath. “Okay.”

Clarke still wasn’t sure how it would go, but if Bellamy believed in her so strongly, then she could believe in herself too. She could believe that the call to do the right thing would be stronger than Luna’s resistance to get involved.

\------------------------

The night had started to fall already, and Luna had been called away a little earlier on some kind of issue within her own village she needed to attend to before meeting with Bellamy and Clarke. She’d been willing to put it off, get to them first, but both Clarke and Bellamy wanted her to be able to focus on what they were saying and asking of her instead of being preoccupied with having other things to get to, so they’d assured her they could wait.

Bellamy offered Clarke a tour while they waited, which Luna was all too happy to grant them access to any area they wished to explore. 

Clarke watched as the fisherman pulled up dinner in their nets, and was surprised when they offered to let her help. It slipped at one point, the net falling back into the water with a large splash. She’d felt awful, but they were nothing but kind towards her, assuring her they still had plenty already caught and ready to go. 

Bellamy hung back from it all, arms crossed leaning against the railing, just watching her as she fumbled her way through it, trying to follow directions that the fishermen were giving her. He had a huge smile plastered on his lips, one of her favorites of his. It was the boyish one that reached all the way up to his eyes, lighting up his entire face. The sun reflected off his eyes, and the wind tousled his hair. He looked incredibly gorgeous, more god than man - it was no wonder she kept dropping the net. It was wholly unfair that she could never quite get used to him being the one that the universe seemed to deam hers. Wholly unfair that he seemed constantly able to steal the breath from her lungs simply with the way he looked at her. 

She wondered if that look in his eyes was what Luna had been talking about when she mentioned how he loved her. 

She wondered if she looked at him the same way.

Now it was evening, not too late in the day, but late enough that the sun had begun it’s descent, almost halfway past the horizon. The wind had picked up, and Clarke was grateful that she had brought a heavy enough jacket. And a change of clothes since it was clear now that they’d have to stay the night. She knew despite their insistence to Aurora and Octavia to not be worried, that they would be. 

Being worried was kind of in the Blakes’ DNA Clarke had learned. 

She leaned out over the railing, looking all the way down to the ocean, to where the waves lapped up on the side of Rig. She remembered what she had asked Bellamy about months ago about whether Luna felt trapped all the way out in the ocean, and while Clarke definitely preferred living on the edge of the ocean instead of in the middle of it, she understood. The sound of the waves was ever-present, even when they were inside and it was calming, soothing. 

Warm hands came up to her waist, gripping her tightly, pretending to push over the railing. She shrieked, holding on to the metal supports with all her strength. Bellamy chuckled behind her and she twisted around to face him and smacked him in the chest. 

“You ass!”

“Please, I wouldn’t let you fall,” he said in between his gasps for breath while laughing. She pretended to be offended, narrowing her eyes and resisting the urge to join him in his convulsions.

“Well if I go over, you’re coming with me. I can’t swim, remember?” she told him, maintaining her indignation. 

“I do remember. I can’t wait for it to be warm enough to teach you,” he told her and it was the earnest way he said it, with just a hint of boyish excitement, and the image of the two of them in the ocean that finally made her crack a smile. She still shook her head and rolled her eyes though. 

Clarke turned back to face the ocean and Bellamy wrapped himself around her, tentatively in case she was still going to pretend to be upset, and when it was clear she wasn’t going to push him away, fully embraced her, letting his hands slid under her layers to rest his palms over her stomach. She hummed a little and leaned back.

“Luna and Derrick are ready for us around back,” he told her softly.

Clarke took a deep breath. “Show time.”

He led her around the center of the Rig that housed the mess hall and the living quarters underneath that. Luna and Derrick sat at a small table near the railing, drinking what Clarke guessed was some kind of tea or wine. Luna smiled at the two of them, and indicated for them to sit. 

Bellamy squeezed her hand and sat down, and Clarke did the same. 

“Tell me, Bellamy, how are you doing? Did you heal alright?” Derrick asked Bellamy. He glanced at Clarke, and she tried to give him a reassuring smile. She knew he still had nightmares about what happened in Polis, but she also knew that wasn’t necessarily what Derrick was asking. 

“My back is fine, thank you,” he told him, and Derrick nodded.

“Forgive me for speaking out of turn, or making assumptions, my friend, but I assume it has something to do with that?” Luna asked steadily. Clarke hadn’t had many interactions with the woman since arriving in Sonchahou, but with the way people talked of her calm and peaceful demeanor, she’d been picturing someone… not as confrontational. But instead Luna’s eyes showed her inspection of the two of them, and it made Clarke feel like she was being laid bare. She wasn’t being rude about it, in fact, it was the same look Raven got when she was trying to figure something or someone out. 

It was also the look of apprehension, like she’d already decided her answer before she’d heard the question. 

If that was indeed the case, then _fuck_.

“Luna, my friend, we go way back,” Bellamy began, bypassing giving a direct answer to Luna’s question. “We have something we need to talk to you about, something that affects us all, Floukru _and_ the rest of the clans.”

“I’m listening.”

Clarke cleared her throat. “When we were in Polis, we witnessed first hand the atrocities that are happening. Ontari is ruthless. She kills without discrimination or hesitation - ”

“As the Heda is wont to do.” 

“This is different. This goes beyond keeping order or leading with strict rules. She delights in the violence. She _revels_ in it. She enjoys torturing innocent people just to see them suffer. That is not a leader.”

“Let me be clear Clarke, since you are still new to our ways. Whether I agree with it or not, that is the prerogative of our Commander. Some rule with respect, some fear, some love, and some death. That is the way it is,” Luna told her factually and devoid of emotion. 

She heard Bellamy huff next to her. “Luna, you know as well as I do that just because they _can_ lead like that, doesn’t mean they _should_. Or do you not remember what life was like under the previous leader of Sonchahou?” he asked and Clarke loved this side of her husband. He was cool, calm, commanding, but firm. No bullshit.

Luna’s eyes narrowed at him. “Of course I remember. How dare you suggest - ” she started, but Derrick put a hand atop of hers, and Luna took a deep breath, “Ontari won the Conclave. Our customs dictate that she be the one to control the Flame. What will you do with it once you’ve killed her?”

“We’re not killing her,” Clarke spoke up, addressing only part of Luna’s question. She wasn’t quite ready to jump into the part of the plan that entailed _Luna_ taking the Flame and lead of the coalition. They had to first convince Luna that ousting Ontari was the right thing to do.

Luna actually looked surprised, like that was the last thing she’d expected Clarke to say. 

“Killing in revenge is… we’re not interested in revenge, or well, we are, to be honest. I think we’d both like to see her dead,” Clarke told them. And she’d meant it. Whenever she thought of being around Ontari, of watching the glee on her face as she tortured Bellamy, the pleasure she took in destroying lives, yeah, Clarke wanted to send an arrow flying into her heart. “But then we’re no better than she is. And we want to do better, _be_ better, as much as we are able. So what we seek is justice, not revenge. There is a difference.”

“There is,” Luna agreed, actually looked intrigued and Clarke felt a surge of hope flow through her. “And how do you propose to make that happen?”

Bellamy spoke next, sighing a little and Clarke knew he still didn’t like this part of the plan. “We use Roan. He doesn’t like Ontari anymore than we do. He’s under her control, forced to do her bidding like the rest. He was almost forced to marry Clarke, as you know. And he’s helped us circumvent her before. So we’re hoping he will do it again. And Azgeda will listen to him. They won’t take their own revenge against us if he orders them not to.”

“And you trust him? The Prince of the Ice Nation? Ontari’s own brother?”

Bellamy hesitated, the first hint of skepticism he’d shown since they sat down. Luna noticed it too, and Clarke’s hope started flying away.

“If you don’t trust him, why should I?” Luna asked, probing deeper once neither of them answered her first question.

“I - ” Bellamy started. Clarke knew it had to come from him, that Bellamy’s opinion would far outweigh anything Clarke said. There was a history between the two leaders. Respect. Respect for position, for life experiences, for knowing the Grounder customs. “I trust that Roan will do what is right for Azgeda. And to have a leader like Ontari… it’s only a matter of time before clans of the coalition band together to start a war. And if that happens… much of Azgeda will be killed. Roan doesn’t want that.” 

Luna hummed, exchanging a glance with Derrick. She looked tempted, anticipatory even, and Clarke’s hope surged once again. 

Until - 

“So what will you do with the Flame? Say I support this plan and you somehow force Ontari to give up the Flame peacefully and without killing her, which I am still a bit unclear on the details of that aspect, but I suspect most of that will need to be done on the fly and in response to how Ontari reacts. But say you succeed. Will Ontari keep the Flame while she rots in her cell? Or will you have the next group of novitates, who to my understanding are not fully trained yet, participate in a Conclave? Which of course, results in the death of children. And Roan is not a _natblida_. He cannot take over for his sister.”

She watched her and Bellamy closely. It was almost like she already knew where this was headed, since there was really only one place for the Flame that made sense. But Clarke knew she needed to hear them say it. And they needed to own it. 

So she took a deep breath, and joined hands with Bellamy, squeezing a little for reassurance. “Well, it would go to you.”

Luna’s face flushed, but remained indifferent and Clarke suspected she was right; Luna did know where this was headed. But she remained silent and Clarke seized the opportunity to explain further.

“You would stay here, on the Rig, not in Polis. If you are the Commander, there’s no actual requirement that says you have to rule in the city. Sonchahou will receive the messengers, and relay any pertinent information, or signal when a clan requests an audience. You would get to rule the clans with peace and honor and stay on the Rig you love. Roan would remain in Polis with Azgeda - giving them control of the city will make an easier transition to a Floukru Commander.”

Luna hadn’t moved an inch, though she noticed Derrick shifting uncomfortably. Next to her, Bellamy was a rock. He was her Earth, grounding her and supporting her. She could draw strength from him and give him some of hers in return. 

“This will work. But the only way we’re going to pull this off is together.”

She finally broke eye contact with Luna, turning to look at Bellamy, who had a large smile etched on his face, full of joy and pride. She let herself smile too, sure that she had convinced Luna. Sure that they had done it.

Then - “No.” 

Clarke’s head whipped back around the same time Bellamy’s did and she stared at Luna with an incredulous expression. 

_No._

She’d said no.

Well, fuck.

“You two are obviously welcome to stay the night, I had Adria prepare our nicest guest quarters for the two of you and breakfast will be sent down to you in the morning before you take off. Thank you for your offer and for your respect.” She stood up and Clarke stood with her, unwilling to let her go so easily.

Clarke would not go down easy.

“Luna, I beg you to reconsider.”

“I’m sorry, Clarke, but my answer is final. I’ve been through Commander training. My entire childhood was spent in Polis, preparing for the time I would kill my peers to become ruler over the clans. I was forced to train, to hurt, to kill. All in the name of tradition, of the Flame. I have no interest in anything to do with being the Commander. Our Rig is peaceful, we are happy here. I’m sorry for what you’ve been through as well, but these things just need to run their course. The Commander will switch to someone else eventually.”

And now Clarke was angry, and struggling to control her shaking, her indignation. She was crestfallen that Luna would turn them down so easy. To stick her head in the sand and let the devastation continue. 

“No.”

“Excuse me?” Luna asked, brows raised at Clarke throwing her refusal back at her. Derrick and Bellamy stood as well, Derrick putting his hands on the table in front of them, and Bellamy crossing his arms across his chest in the stance that Clarke associated with his refusal to give. “Bellamy,” Luna began, not taking her eyes off of Clarke. 

“You heard her,” he said simply.

“You don’t get to run. Not again. You could’ve had control of the coalition a long time ago. I’ve heard of your skills. Ontari is even afraid of you. You are her only weakness, the only one that can do this.”

“I don’t _want_ to do this,” Luna retorted. 

“I don’t give a fuck if you don’t want to do this, it isn't about that! It’s the right thing to do, which means it won’t be easy, sure. But it’s still the right thing to do. You can’t just hide out here in the middle of the fucking _ocean_ and let your fellow people get slaughtered or tortured when there is something you can do to stop it.”

“Clarke - ” she tried, her voice dripping with warning, but there was something else in there as well - a plea, and Clarke knew she was on the right track.

“On the Ark, we killed people for the smallest infraction and said it was because ‘we didn’t have a choice’. Well, we did. We could’ve found some other way to handle it, but we took the easy way out. It was easier to float people than to work towards something better. I won’t do that again. I won’t be a party to that _again_.”

Her voice was even, which shocked her since inside she was full of emotion and turmoil. Bellamy shifted closer, and unfolded his arms to put a hand on her back. 

“Sometimes we don’t have the luxury of sitting around and doing nothing. Ontari thinks love is a weakness. She thinks that it’s what makes her superior and more powerful and because we _love_ , we will stay under her thumb, under her control. So tell me, do you feel weaker when you’re with Derrick?” she asked, pointedly, already knowing what Luna’s answer would be to that.

And sure enough, Luna broke eye contact long enough to flash a glance at her husband. But Clarke didn’t give her time to respond before finishing. “Because with Bellamy - ” she grabbed at her own husband’s hand, which had already started reaching for her and gripping it so tight that she was sure he felt discomfort. But he didn’t show it, only gripped her hand back just as tightly. And she took the way his fingers fit securely with her own, hands melded so closely that they might as well just be one now and continued, “With Bellamy I’ve never felt stronger. Loving him and him loving me, has made us both a force that cannot be shaken, cannot be destroyed. So let’s show Ontari what that means.”

She pulled on Bellamy’s hand so that they could leave the table and walk towards their quarters for the evening. “I know you’re scared,” she said, softer, glancing back one more time. “I know it’s your instinct to resist the Flame. But you have a chance to make life better for everyone. To show them what love can do. If you don’t, if you continue to hide from it, then you’re just as responsible.”

She didn’t wait for Luna to answer, didn’t wait for her to stop her and Bellamy and say that she’d changed her mind, that she would help after all. Clarke didn’t really expect her to do that anyway.

Either way, in the morning, they’d have their answer. 

Clarke hoped to hell that it was the one they wanted - they _needed_ to hear.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> LOTS went on! There's always bumps in the road, nothing ever goes exactly to plan lol. But the journey is half the battle!
> 
> Like I said, updates might be a little more spread out, but it shoudln't be too much, I'm thinking I'll have 28 ready around Wednesday? Thanks for your support and patience!
> 
> ❤
> 
> If you want to see the moodboard for this fic and/or check out my tumblr, [here it is](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488)! Thanks!


	28. Chapter 28

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey everyone! 
> 
> I can't believe it took a whole week to get this edited and posted, I'm so sorry! I'm camping with my family and there's no wifi in the forest unfortunately. But I think I finally got it working so I can update you all!
> 
> Thanks to everyone for sticking with this, I am SO unbelievably thankful for all of you! I love hearing from you! Thanks for continuing on this journey with me!
> 
> ❤

“That was quite easily the sexiest thing I’ve ever seen,” Bellamy murmured against Clarke’s lips as he slammed the door to their quarters on the Rig shut and crowded her against it. His lips couldn’t leave her skin, it was like a magnet that he was too strong to resist, even if he wanted to. 

But he definitely didn’t want to resist. He felt her smile against his jaw. “It was, hmm?”

“So. Fucking. Hot.”

She giggled a little and he tore at her jacket, her overshirt, until she was just in a thin threadbare t-shirt, which he roughly shoved off her shoulders to get to her bare skin. His entire body was thrumming for _more, more, more_. 

The second her soft hands reached up under his own shirt, to trace the planes of his abs and chest with her fingertips, he stepped back, pulling his shirt off in one swift motion. He twisted them around roughly, securing her to him with his hands splayed across her back, as he captured her lips again. He guided them over to the large billowy bed and they collapsed on it together in a heap. 

Then they were all tangled limbs and somehow they managed to get the rest of their clothes off, which was quite a feat considering they both couldn’t stop kissing the other long enough to even pay attention to what they were doing. He heard a rip somewhere, a long tearing sound that Bellamy didn’t really care about but then there was nothing left between them and he forgot all about it in favor of eliciting the sounds out of her that would always be seared in his memory. 

She seemed just as impassioned as he was; her hands never stopped moving over the contours of his body, mapping and leaving a trail of flames in their wake. Eventually, she’d touched enough of him that it was like every nerve ending in his body was on fire. 

It was intense and frantic, like they both couldn’t get close enough fast enough; he wasn’t sure where he ended and she began. But there was playfulness about it still and soon they were both fighting for control. Every time he let down his guard even just slightly, she’d hook a heel around his waist and twist them until she was above him, grinning down smugly at him, swatting his hand away when he tried to flip them back. Until his fingers found her and her mind went blank enough for him to get the upper hand again shifting so it was her back on the mattress and he’d smile into her hip and she’d tug a little too hard on his hair in retailitation.

At some point they’d rolled too close to the edge of the bed though and toppled over and Bellamy had to try to quickly adjust them so he’d be the one landing on his back. Instead, they ended up on their sides.

“Ow!”

“Shit!”

They both broke into a fit of laughter, and Clarke’s soft blonde waves fell into her face, obstructing his view of her face. He reached over with a trembling hand, still shaking from his laughter and brushed it off her face, his mind flashing back to a time forever ago, yet in reality it was only a few months. Another place, dark with only the light of moon and tentative touches and conversation, the bottom edges of their clothes wet from the ocean, his heart pounding away in his chest and an errant blonde curl that never seemed able to be tamed. 

Back then, they still didn’t know _what_ they were to each other, only that they were drawn closer and closer and it had scared the hell out of him. Now he’d never been more sure of anything in his entire life than the stunning woman lying naked beside him, laughing because they were both too stubborn to allow the other one on top that they’d literally rolled off the bed.

As he brushed her hair back, his palm lingering on her cheek like it always did, he watched her carefree expression, her lips smiling with pure joy and contentment, her eyes lit up like there was sunshine trapped in her irises. They were blue like the ocean during the summer, reflective, warm, peaceful - the way he liked it best. 

No wonder the beach had always been his favorite place. It was like his soul knew he’d end up falling for someone who held the ocean in her eyes.

She’d been so stressed lately that more often than not her eyes held a storm, strong and unrelenting, always trying to think of their next move, the right thing to do, to say. But in this moment she just looked like a woman who wouldn’t want to be anywhere else.

The fact that it was with _him_ that she felt this way would never stop blowing Bellamy’s mind.

Clarke started blushing under his assessment, shaking her head a little, and bit her lip. Her blue eyes grew darker and she lunged forward, capturing his lips again and his eyes slid shut, kissing her back with just as much ferocity. There was no more stubborn fighting, both of them moving together anticipating the way the other would move until they burned so hot and bright they melted together. 

They fell asleep pretty quickly after that, emotionally and physically spent from their full day and night, still on the floor, both too depleted to bother getting back on the mattress, and Bellamy had just enough presence of mind to pull the quilt down on top of them before he faded away.

\------------------------

Bellamy woke a couple hours later with a crick in his neck and a groan in his throat. Clarke stirred next to him in response, her head laying on his chest and her hair tickling his skin. He tried adjusting gently, so that he didn’t wake her, but she peeked blurrily up at him anyway. 

“Everything okay?” she slurred.

“Yeah,” he winced out, lifting a hand to her hair to smooth it down off her face. “Go back to sleep, it’s early still.”

“Mmm…” she trailed off, and he thought that was it, that she’d indeed let herself be pulled back under. Bellamy shifted a little more, stretching an arm up to the bed to grab a pillow so his head wouldn’t be resting on the steel floor anymore, but after a minute she sat up with a sigh, the blankets pooling around her waist, her bare chest erupting in goosebumps at the chill in the room. 

The weather had turned, getting closer to spring now, but out on the ocean on the cold metal Rig, it was still quite chilly. He reached over to their bags, grabbed his thermal out and tossed it to her.

“Hmm, does my nakedness offend you or something?” she teased.

Bellamy sat up so he was closer to her, and snaked a hand around her neck, pulling her in. “Just the opposite actually,” he told her, placing a long, soft kiss on her lips.

She smiled against his mouth, humming a little. “Good answer,” she whispered, kissing him back again.

She pulled back and he helped her get the thermal over her torso before standing and pulling on a pair of sweats, pulling her onto the mattress that time instead of the floor. She settled against his side again, hooking her leg over his. His arm wrapped around her, his hand on her hip. She twisted slightly so her chin rested on his chest and she was looking at him.

“So how do you think it went with Luna?” she asked quietly, almost like she was afraid of the answer. 

Bellamy looked up at the ceiling, drawing in a deep breath. “I think… you were amazing.”

“Oh stop.”

“No, Clarke, you were. You have every reason in the world, we _both_ do, to want Ontari dead. To not even give her a chance to give up the throne. You could barrel in, start a war. Instead, you’re trying to keep it as peaceful as you can. You’re even considering how Azgeda would feel about not being in charge anymore by bringing Roan in.”

“I do want her dead,” she told him, small, like she was afraid of her own anger. Bellamy could relate. He’d felt such rage over the past few months, it was no small miracle that he was able to keep it under control. 

He gave her a small smile. “I know. But you’re able to separate justice from vengeance and try to do better than her. And that’s… using love as a strength, putting priority on breaking the cycle of violence, doing what’s best for _all_ the clans, instead of just what _you_ want… that’s amazing. And that’s something I think Luna will respond to.

“Really?” she asked, hopeful. 

“Really. Not many people are willing to call Luna out. It’s not that they're scared of her, necessarily, because she is a very beloved leader, kind. But I think all the way out here, it’s easy to forget what everyone else is going through.”

Clarke turned and laid back down. “I feel bad for her actually. She was born with a certain color blood that she didn’t ask for, and was taken as a child to be a killer… no wonder she’s run from any conflict. I don’t blame her. She didn’t ask for this. Didn’t ask to be a Commander, didn’t want it. Did I say the wrong thing? Put too much guilt on her?”

He considered that for a moment. His instinct was to reassure her, to put any notion that she’d said something inappropriate to bed, but he knew she also wanted an honest answer so he wanted to think carefully before he responded.

“You did guilt her,” he said truthfully. He felt her deflate and he squeezed her against him a bit. “But that’s not a bad thing. You were truthful, without being mean. If she feels guilt over your words, it’s because she knows you’re right. Whether she acts on it is her choice.”

He felt Clarke relax a little at his explanation, and he squeezed her again. “Okay. So now we just wait? What do we do if she doesn’t agree?”

They’d both known that it was a possibility. One that neither of them really wanted to seriously entertain, but a possibility nonetheless. 

“We cross that bridge if we get to that point,” he said, a little breathless, nervous, because he wasn’t sure if there was any going back for him. They’d gotten this far and he was _so sure_ of their path forward, of what he was supposed to do. It was like an itch that he couldn’t shake, couldn’t get rid of. If Luna still said no… if she refused, he wasn’t sure how he was supposed to just be okay with that and go back to how things were.

He knew Clarke still felt the same, that she was still struggling over what had happened in Polis, her attack, her kidnapping, watching him be tortured, almost losing him, every night when she’d wake up in a cold sweat, reaching for him to reassure herself that he was still there. He wasn’t sure there was any going back for her either. 

“I’m going to have to - ” she began, but was interrupted by a knock to the door. It was early still, the sun probably hadn’t even started to rise yet, but someone was beckoning them anyway. His heart started pounding as he and Clarke sat up, hoping there was nothing wrong back in the village, no emergency that had happened in the less than 24 hours since they’d been on the Rig. Or heaven forbid, something with the mission to the vehicle.

Clarke reached over her pants still on the floor where they’d been kicked off the night before and the look of panic in her eyes when she looked at him told him she was concerned about the same things he was.

He was still shirtless as he walked swiftly to the door, his hand reaching the handle just as whoever it was knocked again. He swung the door open to see Luna standing in the doorway.

“Luna? What’s going on? Did my mother signal?” he asked as Clarke came to stand next to him, her hand finding his automatically.

“No,” Luna breathed. “I’m so sorry, I didn’t mean to - ” she glanced past them into their room, which was in quite a state of disarray after the night before. Her lips quirked into a wry smile. “ - interrupt you. Or to worry you. I’m sure things are fine back in Sonchahou. You are a good leader.” Then, she turned from Bellamy to Clarke. “Both of you. Floukru is honored to have you too. And bonded, no less.”

“Then what is going on?” Clarke repeated him, squeezing his hand slightly.

“Like I said, you two are good leaders. Righteous, honorable, noble. Things the twelve clans can lack at times. Including myself.” She took a deep breath. “We can get so caught up in the violence, we forget there is another way. And _I_ forget that I have the power to do something about it.”

His mind was taking longer than it should’ve to process the implications of what she was saying, what she was trying to tell them. 

Was she -

“What’re you - are you saying yes? That you’ll help us? You’ll take the Flame and become the Commander?” Clarke asked before he could get his voice to work. Clearly her mind was working faster than his. He knew she was struggling with staying calm, excitement evident in the tone of her voice, the smile on her face.

Luna took a deep breath and Bellamy felt a little bit like they were all frozen in the moment, and he was sure this was going to be something he remembered. 

“Yes.”

Clarke chuckled and Bellamy felt his eyes go wide with disbelief until Clarke was suddenly in front of him, in his space, wrapping her arms arounds his middle. He made eye contact with Luna and that same smile was still on her face. 

“Thank you, Bellamy. Clarke. For reminding me that sometimes the right thing to do isn’t always the path I wish it was. I can’t run and hide from this anymore.”

Clarke turned in his arms, clasping Luna’s forearm with her own. “You can show them a new way to live, a better one. People won’t need to live in fear for their or they’re family’s lives. You’re doing a good thing, Luna, thank you.”

Luna nodded at her. “Well, breakfast is in about an hour in the mess and then Juel will escort you home. Send for me when you’re ready.”

Bellamy could see a twinge of sadness in her eyes, something akin to reluctant acceptance. She turned to go, but as excited as he was that Luna had come around, Clarke’s words in his head from their conversation not twenty minutes ago rang through his mind. 

“Luna, wait. Are you sure? I know you never wanted this, old friend. And as much as I was hoping this is what you would decide, I don’t want you to feel pressured or forced.”

He could feel Clarke’s eyes on him, and a quick glance to her showed him the gratefulness in her gaze. He knew she was of the same mind he was. 

Luna stepped back towards them and placed a hand on each of their shoulders. “I am absolutely certain. It’s why I’m here so early, I’ve spent all night talking it over with Derrick and even my sweet Adria. It isn’t just about me, it’s about what is best for my people, _all_ of my people.”

Bellamy nodded at her, which she returned with a nod of her own, and she walked down the hallway away from them. He and Clarke walked back inside, and just stood in the shambles of their quarters, clothes and blankets and other items strewn about the floor from the night before all around them. He watched as the dumbfounded look on her face shifted slowly from disbelief, to realization to excitement. Her smile grew wide and he was sure he held a similar expression on his own features.

A second later she launched herself into his arms holding tight to his neck. He wrapped his arms around her middle and held her to him. 

“We did it!” she exclaimed in his ear. 

He set her down and they parted only enough to be able to look at each other. “You ready for this, Princess?”

She smirked at him. “Hell yeah.”

***

Clarke’s mind was going a mile a minute. A far cry from the night before, when she’d allowed herself to get lost in the moment, live in their little bubble of passion and exuberance. It was relaxing to just be a normal married woman in love with her husband, and not someone trying to overthrow the government for an evening. She hadn’t quite realized what an enormous toll that would take on her when they’d started out. 

But Bellamy was her respite, the way he looks at her giving her peace and calm in a way that nothing else could. He was encouraging, and honest, and hopeful, and she would be infinitely glad that they were in it together. That whatever may come that was one thing that would never change. 

However hesitant he was at first, she knew he was all in on this with her. That he wanted it just as badly as she did. He also understood her struggle between the dark and light sides inside warring with one another. She knew what the right thing to do was, to give Ontari a chance to live and be shown mercy. But there would always be that side of her as well that wanted her executed for her crimes, so that she would never even have the slimmest chance of hurting anyone else. 

But that was essentially what the Ark did. Execution for crimes was the norm. That’s what the ground did. Murder was normal for at the very least Azgeda, and expected from the other clans. It was what Clarke was fighting to change, and she couldn’t very well do that while killing Ontari herself. 

If it came down to it, though, and Ontari refused to give up the Flame…

Well, they hadn’t really talked about that yet. It was a hard decision that they hoped they wouldn’t have to make, but they still needed to talk about what options they were open to. 

And now that Luna had agreed, they also needed to figure out next steps.

All through breakfast, Bellamy kept casting knowing glances in her direction, shaking his head and smiling whenever he tried to talk with her and she didn’t hear him. 

They were getting ready to board the boat, packs on their backs. They’d already said goodbye to Luna, promising to signal over when they were ready for her. Clarke would need to check with Raven and Monty on the status of the radios, but she was hoping they’d be ready within the month to head to Polis. The snow and coldest weather will have passed by then.

“Hey, stop thinking so much,” Bellamy teased, knocking his shoulder with hers once the boat had left the Rig.

“Yeah, fat chance,” she mumbled back to him, but flashed him a small smile. He ran a hand through his curls.

“I know. But the biggest piece of the puzzle is taken care of,” he pointed out. “One thing at a time.”

“Mmm hmm,” she hummed, nodding. 

He reached out for her hand, gripping it solidly. “I can practically feel you vibrating. This is not a sprint, Clarke, you’re going to burn yourself out if you don’t give that beautiful brain of yours a rest every once in awhile.”

She shot him a look, but sighed. “I know. I can’t just shut it off though.”

“I know. When we get back, we’ll see if the rest of the group is back yet, though I don’t think they’d travel through the night, so we might actually beat them back. Especially with Raven’s leg, the half day journey will probably take a little longer.”

“I’m glad she’s got Murphy though. For a loud mouth, he’s pretty protective of her.”

“Yeah, I understand the feeling,” he told her, smirking. “When you find that person, it’s just instinctual.”

Clarke hummed and scooted a little closer. His hand left hers and he wrapped it around her waist, tugging her the rest of the way to him. The wind had picked up, chilly, and blowing Clarke’s waves around her face. She should’ve braided it back. 

The group was indeed not back yet by the time they returned to the village, but Aurora and Octavia gave them each a hug and were anxious to hear how the meeting with Luna had gone. They were overjoyed when Bellamy relayed their conversation, over praising Clarke for her persuasiveness, and her cheeks flushed at the compliments, though she argued that Bellamy did just as much in convincing Luna. 

Once they reached the village, they went their separate ways, Bellamy to check in with Anya and deposit their packs, and Clarke to the clinic.

Harper was the only one there when she walked in. “Hey!” her friend said with a grin, putting down the notebook she’d been holding and walking over to give Clarke a hug. “That was so much faster than I thought it’d be. Luna is very hospitable, but usually that also means she takes her time with things. The Rig is very laid back,” she chuckled.

“And see, here I was thinking that took forever.”

“Nope,” Harper said, still smiling, but shaking her head. “So, tell me! How’d it go? I’m dying to hear all about it,” she gushed, grabbing Clarke’s arm and leading her over to the chairs by the fireplace.

“I learned how to fish?” Clarke laughed.

“No way. Are you any good at it?”

“Not even a little bit. Definitely not my calling.”

“Mmm, so we’re going to stick with saving the world then?” she teased with lightness in her eyes. Clarke chuckled a little, grateful for the break in the solemnity of her thoughts. She was excited and hopeful, sure, but there was also a weight, a responsibility she’d taken on for the people she’d come to call family, and for all intents and purposes what was, aside from the Ark, the last of the human race.

“Just call me Wonder Woman,” she muttered, knowing that Harper probably wouldn’t get the reference like Bellamy didn’t. But she smiled anyway at the absurdity of the comparison. 

“Yes! That’s it! For sure you are the Wonder Woman!” Harper exclaimed and Clarke’s head whipped around to face her friend. 

“How do you know who that is?” Clarke asked incredulously.

“I’m in a relationship with Monty, who’s best friends with Jasper. Do you have any idea how many times I’ve had to listen to them debate something called comic books?” she asked, giving Clarke a look. “Apparently they’re like books? But with pictures? And about superheroes?”

Clarke chuckled. “Yeah, something like that.”

“Hmm. Well, in any case,” she waved off. “They mentioned the Wonder Woman and of course I paid attention for _that_ part of their comic world explanation, because hello, a superhero woman,” she explained, like it was obvious. “She has something to do with Zeus, right? And I remember that because Bellamy was always prattling on and _on_ about Greek Gods when we were younger. Anyway she come down from the heavens to bring peace and love to the people right?”

While Clarke knew who Wonder Woman and various other superheroes were - Wells and her dad used to get into intense conversations about them - she certainly didn’t know enough to delve into the intricacies of the stories. “Um, I think so? Sort of, there’s a lot more to it, I think.”

“Still, kind of sounds like you,” Harper pointed out with a piercing look.

“Okay, I was totally kidding, I am no superhero, Harper,” Clarke insisted, getting a little embarrassed at the direction the conversation had taken, when she’d only said it as a joke originally. “But I appreciate the comparison,” Clarke added, so she wouldn’t offend her. 

“I don’t know - ” Harper started when the door opened to Monty and Jasper walking in with Bellamy, but stopped when they came in.

“What’re we talking about? Clarke looks red.” Jasper brought to everyone’s attention.

“It’s the fire,” Clarke mumbled and she heard a huff from Bellamy. 

“We were talking about the Wonder Woman,” Harper piped up.

“Okay, it’s not _the_ Won - ” Clarke tried.

“Hey! Did you tell her our theory _without_ us?” Jasper asked Harper, sounding aghast at the thought.

“Your _theory_? You all talked about this?” Clarke asked, shocked and getting _very_ red now, she was sure of it and she wasn’t going to be able to blame it on the fire much longer.

“I want to hear this,” Bellamy asked, coming up behind Clarke to give her a kiss on her cheek. “Your cheeks _are_ pretty warm,” he whispered in her ear.

“Shut up,” she mumbled.

“Don’t get mad at me, Jasper, _she’s_ the one who brought up the Wonder Woman,” Harper insisted.

“There is no _the_ ,” Clarke and Monty said at the same time, Clarke with annoyance and Monty with mirth.

“And now I’m regretting it,” Clarke added. “But we’re getting off topic. We were going to talk about what happened on the Rig,” she pointed out, trying to steer the conversation away from comparing Clarke with a superhero.

“You’ll tell me later?” Bellamy asked her, low.

“No,” Clarke refused.

“I will, don’t worry,” Monty offered and she saw Bellamy smirk and nod.

“Oh for the - ” she rolled her eyes.

“So, the Rig,” Harper asked, helping her change the topic with a smile. “What’d Luna say?”

She glanced back at Bellamy before answering. “Well, she said no… at first.” she added when they started to look disappointed. 

“But Clarke is amazing and refuses to take no for an answer and she insisted that Luna should consider what the right thing to do is, to stand up for the clans, to show them a way to live peacefully instead of with fear and violence - ”

“A lot like Wonder Woman,” Jasper said under his breath until Clarke shot daggers at him and he clamped his mouth shut.

“And the next morning Luna came to our quarters to say that she changed her mind, that she’ll go with us to overthrow Ontari,” he finished.

Everyone was quiet for a moment, trying to fully comprehend what Bellamy had told them..

“So that’s it, then? It’s really happening. We’re really doing this,” Harper said, all joking gone with the weight of what they were undertaking sinking in.

She exchanged a look with Bellamy, who smiled reassuringly. “Yeah, we are.”

\------------------------

Clarke was waiting up on the watchtower a little later when Octavia came to find her. She climbed up beside her and swung her legs over the side.

“Hey sis,” O smiled, knocking her shoulder into Clarke’s.

Clarke smiled at her back. The sun was shining, and while she still needed a jacket, her face was warm. She’d been soaking it up for a while now, since she’d left the clinic, swinging her bow over her shoulder and volunteering to watch for the group to come back since the clinic was still slow. She tracked it’s descent, as it inched closer and closer to the tree line. 

Unless they were close, they’d have to find somewhere to spend the night again, their second night since they’d left. It wasn’t supposed to be a dangerous mission, so she wasn’t overly worried, but it was still her family out there, at her bequest, her plan, her idea. 

“So how was it here without all of us for the last day?” Clarke asked.

“Oh, quiet,” Octavia joked with a side smile. “Finally, I mean, my goodness.”

“Quiet, really? Even with Jasper?”

Octavia let out a bark of laughter. “No, I guess not. Jasper is definitely not quiet. He taught me this game last night, quarters?”

“No he did not! No way!”

O nodded, “Yeah, he totally did.”

“I have so many questions,” Clarke mused, unable to stop chuckling. “Where did he even find the quarter? And please tell me you weren’t actually drinking alcohol.”

“Of course not, my cup had water. Which is probably why I won. Harper stayed sober too, since she was technically on call with the clinic with you on the Rig, but Monty and Jasper… whew, this morning was rough for them,” she laughed. “And we don’t actually have any Old Earth money here - I’ve never even seen a quarter.”

“So… then what’d you use?”

Octavia bit her lip. “Apparently, Raven had made some lookalikes in the blacksmith cabin before she left at Jas’s request, so we talked the blacksmith into letting us borrow one for the night,” she told Clarke, winking. 

“Well, even against sober you, I think I could take you, I was pretty good at it on the Ark.”

“Wasn’t underage drinking against the rules on the Ark?”

“Eh, drinking age is actually 18, not 21 like on Old Earth, so Wells and I - we used to raid our parents’ stash, only taking a small amount and watering it down. Or we’d take turns using our ration points to get a bottle.”

“Rebel.”

“Shut up, there were - lots of expectations as children of Council members, so we couldn't get away with much more than that. But still, I was pretty good,” she smirked.

“Well, then bring it on Griffin,” Octavia insisted. “Or,” she started, raising her eyebrows at Clarke. “Is it Blake now?”

Clarke furrowed her brows. “Griffin,” she answered automatically. “Or - actually I don’t know. Blake I guess works too. We haven’t really talked about it. Everything has been such a whirlwind since we got married, and now with - it’s just not something we’ve talked about.” Octavia remained silent, letting Clarke process out loud. She knew O didn’t much care either way, that no matter what her last name was, they were still family.

Octavia just hummed. “So it looks like they’re coming back tomorrow.”

“Yeah, I guess so,” Clarke shrugged. The sky was still bright, but the sun had made past the trees now and they couldn’t really see it anymore. With its disappearance went the small amount of warmth it had been providing. The night shift of guards would be rotating in soon and it was probably just past dinner time. She’d promised to meet Bellamy in the dining hall after he took care of a few things, but she’d been enjoying quiet of being up on watch. “Sorry Lincoln won’t be with them.”

Octavia shrugged. “I’m used to it. It’s his job. I just wish I was with him. It’s been a while since we left the village together.” Lincoln was headed to Trishanakru, Louwoda Kliron, and Trikru to gauge how willing they’d be to back Floukru up. Since the group left before Clarke and Bellamy had gotten Luna’s approval, he was planning on being very vague and non-descript, simply measuring how much support Floukru would have.

Clarke bumped her shoulder. “Well maybe after this is all over you guys can get away for awhile, just the two of you, before the baby comes.”

Octavia brightened a little at the suggestion. “Yeah, that’d be nice. He’s got some friends and family over in TonDC I know he’s been missing.”

There was some shouting, and a signal flame went up from their scout tower deeper into the woods, indicating someone had been spotted and was on their way. Octavia and Clarke both scrambled to their feet on the wall. Clarke whipped her bow off her shoulder and pulled an arrow out of the quiver, loading it quickly. Her eyes were on the trees, but she heard O next to her yelling down to the guards on the ground to go get Bellamy. Whoever it was, if they were _just_ spotted by the scouts, it would still be a few minutes before they made it over to the gate. 

“Flame is still yellow,” O whispered next to her. She’d gotten her sword out of its sheath and held it up. Even though they were too high up for her to really do anything with it, at least they were ready. 

“Let me know if it changes,” she whispered back. If the signal flame stayed yellow, it was most likely their group. If it changed to green, emergency protocols were put in place. Green meant possible danger.

“Clarke!” she heard Bellamy yell up to them after a few minutes.

“It’s yellow, Bell,” O yelled down to him.

“Open it up!” Bellamy commanded. Clarke knew it was probably fine to release her arrow from the tension of the bowstring, but something in her froze and kept her from disarming. It struck at the weirdest times, often without warning. 

It was on a constant loop in her mind. 

_What if it’s Azgeda, coming to take her back?_ or _What if her friends, bloodly, beaten, and bound, being used as a barter?_ Or even _An Azgeda army storming the village._

If that flame turned green, she wouldn't let herself be caught without her bow armed. 

She didn’t realize she’d been shaking until Octavia touched her elbow lightly. “It’s okay, Clarke, I see Miller.”

Clarke kept her bow armed, but pointed it down, taking a shaky breath as she turned to look at O. Her green eyes were steady, holding Clarke’s gaze until her breathing evened out.

“O?” she heard Bellamy call, softer than before. He must’ve realized something was up.

“We’re okay. Everything is okay. We’ll be down in a minute,” she told him without breaking the lock she had on Clarke’s eyes. 

Clarke finally felt her arm muscles ease and she took a deep breath, swinging her gaze back to the trees where Miller, Murphy and Raven were emerging. They looked safe enough, but Murphy was supporting Raven as she limped towards them. Clarke immediately zeroed in on her leg, which was missing its brace.

She looked back towards Bellamy, who had a very predictably worried expression on his face. Once they made eye contact, Clarke tried to give him a reassuring smile before getting her stuff put away so she could start her descent. She heard Octavia land at the bottom with a soft thump, and whispered conversation Clarke was sure was about her. 

Once she was on the ground, she stepped up to him, where he had his arms folded across his chest in the way he does when he’s trying to not to overwhelm her and be overbearing - when he knows she’s fine, but still itches to hold her. She put a hand out on his arm, flexed with the effort it was taking him not to move. 

“I’m fine,” she told him quietly. “It just gets to me sometimes, you know that.”

“Okay,” he said after a moment of searching her face for any sign she was lying. But he knew she stopped lying about that kind of thing a long time ago. She used to say she was fine to keep people from investigating further, to keep people at an arm’s length. Now, he knew if she said she was fine, then it was because she was fine.

He stepped forward to give her a soft kiss on the cheek. 

“Okay, looks like something happened with Raven, so I need to go check on her,” she told him and he nodded. 

The gates were already open and the group had finally made it close enough for the three of them to meet them in the middle. Clarke immediately went to Raven’s other side, trying to take her from Murphy, but he didn’t move. 

“Yeah, he wouldn’t let me help either,” Miller spoke up, mildly annoyed. She saw Bellamy stepped towards him, taking the pack from his back, which was bulging at the clasp. 

“Hey! Blake! Be careful with that stuff! Seriously if you break any of it - ” Raven started ordering and after the pack was securely on Bellamy’s shoulder he held his hands up in surrender.

“Precious cargo, got it.”

“Would you just give it a rest?” Murphy murmured, low, probably just for Raven, but with Clarke so close, she heard it too. “He’ll get it to Monty, which is who we should be finding too to help get you a new brace.”

“What happened? Are you hurt?” Clarke asked, anxiously.

“My stupid fucking leg,” Raven muttered in response. 

“We’re not really hurt for the most part,” Murphy confirmed. “Except maybe Reyes’s pride.”

Raven shot him a look, but then rolled her eyes over to Clarke. “He’s not wrong. I tripped over a stupid root on the way back and rolled down a hill. I hit some rocks at the bottom and it screwed up my fucking brace.”

“It was hurting more than helping so we left it behind,” Murphy added. “We didn’t have room in the pack to bring it with us.”

“So it was successful then? You found the car?”

Raven got a mischievous grin on her face. “Hell yeah we did!” she exclaimed and tried to take a step forward. Her face twisted into a painful grimace. “Shit, ow.”

Clarke narrowed her eyes. “I thought you said you weren’t injured?”

Raven shifted her eyes a little. 

Murphy rolled his eyes. “For fuck’s sake, it’s a good thing I love you." Then turning to Clarke, he explained, "She twisted her ankle during her flop.” When he noticed Raven and Clarke just staring at him, he added, “But I mean flop in the, you know, most epic way possible. Plummet? Is that better?”

Clarke and Raven were both still frozen, which seemed to confirm to Clarke what had just happened.

Murphy had just told Raven he loved her. And by the wide eye look on Raven’s face, it was for the first time.

Yet _he_ didn’t seem to realize he’d said it.

Clarke felt very awkward all of a sudden, being a part of something so momentous. 

She glanced over at Bellamy who was wearing a confused look on his face, clearly having missed what happened, but not Raven or Clarke’s response to it.

“For fuck’s sake, _what_?” Murphy asked, exasperated.

Bellamy walked over. “Everything okay over here?” he asked. Then leaning down to Clarke’s ear from behind her, he added, “Why does Raven look like she just saw a ghost?”

“Uh - um, Murphy just - ” she stuttered.

“You - what?” Raven breathed. “Did you just - what did you just say?”

Murphy still looked like he didn’t get it, his eyes narrowing and bouncing around to the three of them. 

Clarke saw the moment it clicked, his face going beet red and his breathing quickening.

“Wel - I just - I meant - ” he stammered, his face getting redder by the second. 

“You said you loved me.”

Clarke bit her lip and took a couple steps back, right into Bellamy’s chest. His hand automatically went to her hips to steady her. 

Murphy’s gaze flickered between all of them again before landing back on Raven, with an intensity she rarely saw from him. 

“You know what? Screw it. Because hell yes I said it. And I meant it. I lo - love you, you infuriating, stubborn, brilliant, gorgeous woman.”

“Should we leave?” Bellamy whispered low in her ear and Clarke tilted her head back.

“Probably. But honestly I kind of want to hear what her response is going to be,” she whispered back. She felt Bellamy’s stifled chuckle from behind her.

They stayed where they were.

Clarke told herself it was mostly because of Raven’s ankle.

Raven’s face was a little red as well, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. Then finally she turned a little to face him, wincing a bit with the effort it was taking to stand on mostly one leg, only slightly still supported by Murphy by steadying herself with a hand on his shoulder. 

“Well, you know what?” she asked sternly before surprising them all by planting a kiss on Murphy. His arms moved instantly, wrapping around her and Clarke and Bellamy looked away for a moment to give them privacy. 

They looked at each other, and Clarke was not surprised to find a smile on her husband’s face, the specific one he reserved for his siblings. He was excited for his brother. She looked over at Octavia, who was watching from a distance next to Miller with the same smile on her face. She risked a glance back at Murphy and Raven.

They had parted, Murphy’s hands still on Raven’s waist and hers on his shoulders, looking at each other like they were only two people in the world.

“I love you too, okay?” she told him, attitude in her words, but a giant smile on her face. “I love your stupid jokes and the way you look at me. I love how you don’t take my shit, but that you genuinely care about me. I love your intensity and your passion, and your love for your family. I love you too.”

Murphy’s smile got even wider, so wide Clarke wasn’t sure she’d ever seen Murphy quite so happy before. Bellamy’s hands squeezed her waist, and tugged her closer to him, and she knew he was thinking the same thing.

“Thank _fuck_ ,” Murphy exclaimed in relief and they all burst into a fit of laughter as Raven kissed him again.

***

“Watch it!” Raven muttered as Monty worked to put on her old brace. It was the first one they’d developed for her after Raven had gotten to Sonchahou with the injury, and Bellamy remembered how she complained all the time about it pinching her. It was why they’d developed the second one, the one that was now at the bottom of a hill somewhere.

“Sorry!” Monty winced. “I’m trying to be careful.”

“I know, I’m sorry for snapping. I’m just glad you kept this damn thing,” Raven apologized. Monty just gave her a small smile and continued working and Bellamy could tell Raven was biting her cheek to keep from crying out again as he adjusted it. One of her hands gripped the side of the table she was on in the clinic and the other held on to Murphy’s.

Harper was working on her other leg. “Yeah, it just looks like a mild sprain. You’ll be limping for a few days, and full recovery in a week or so. You exasperated it on your way home, so try not to use it at all, or it will take much longer,” Harper warned. Clarke walked up behind her with a wrap to immobilize it. 

“So now I have two shit legs? Awesome,” Raven remarked sarcastically.

“Hey, I love those legs,” Murphy murmured against her temple and Bellamy felt his lips twitch in a small smile. It would never stop being weird to hear Murphy saying he loved her, after going his whole life without saying that to anyone else in that way, but it still made his chest warm. Raven’s frustrated expression softened for a moment. 

“How’s that feel?” Clarke asked when she was done wrapping it.

“Nothing like a little pain to remind you you’re alive,” she shrugged. “It’s fine, thanks. I just want to get started.”

“You got the stuff you needed?” he asked. He knew next to nothing about tech and could barely remember which parts she had said she was looking for.

She grinned. “Yep,” she told him, popping the ‘p’. “Plus some random spare parts I’m sure will come in handy eventually. Battery was fucked though, so I’ll need the Pod’s if I’m ever going to get the walkies charged after we build them.”

“Okay, we’ll get a group out there next week.”

“Yeah, alright.”

“Lincoln make it off okay?” Octavia asked.

“He left us yesterday, after we found the vehicle. He said he was headed towards Trikru first, then he was going to hit Louwoda Kliron and Trishanakru next. Should be back in a week or so,” Murphy told her. 

“Thanks.”

“Oh! We found something else too… ” Raven smirked.

“Stop. We aren’t showing anyone those.”

“Come on, I’m sure they’d love to see what an artist you were.”

“Raven…” Murphy warned.

“Okay, okay. Nevermind everyone, we definitely did not find a notebook with pictures by little Murphy in his hideout.”

Bellamy clamped his lips together to keep from laughing, but his shoulders started shaking anyway.

Murphy let out an exasperated sigh. “Fine, show them,” he relented. “But seriously, I don’t want to hear shit from _any_ of you.” He shoved at Bellamy and walked over to the pack to pull out the small notebook.

They all gathered around while Murphy laid his forehead down on the table so he couldn't see their reactions.

Bellamy flipped through them slowly, pictures of trees and what must be the vehicle he was in, and even one or two of him and O, before Aurora took him in. 

“Mom is going to love these Murph!” O exclaimed.

“You are so _not_ showing Aurora those. She’ll like put them up on her wall or something.”

Bellamy shot him a look. “Oh hell yeah we are.”

Murphy growned and Raven giggled a little. He lifted his head and narrowed his eyes at her. “Great. I’ll never forgive you for this, Reyes,” he told her overdramatically.

Raven waved him off however. “Please. You love me,” she challenged. 

Murphy’s glare got sharper for a moment before Bellamy noticed his lips twitch in the corner like he was trying to keep his straight face. 

“I love you too, though,” she continued and before long Murphy couldn’t hide his smile anymore and he was grinning back at her. He leaned over to give Raven a kiss and Octavia made gagging noises next to him.

“Who knew love would make you so insufferable?” she teased, and Bellamy suppressed his chuckle.

“Whatever. I’ll have you know, little Blake, that I’ve _always_ been insufferable,” he insisted, making the entire clinic bust out in laughter at how completely wrong yet somehow true that statement was.

“So how did it go with Luna?” Miller asked when they’d all calmed down somewhat.

Bellamy exchanged a look and a smile with Clarke. “Really good, actually. She almost turned us down, but she changed her mind last minute. Now she’s just waiting for our signal to move.”

Raven perked up, and got an anxious look on her face that told him she was probably itching to get started with the news. “Okay, tonight Monty and I - ”

“ - will start in the morning,” Clarke said with a pointed look. “You just got back from hiking through the cold woods, you need food - ”

“Jasper went to go grab them some, he should be back in a minute,” Harper told them.

Clarke nodded at her before turning back to Raven. “Perfect. You need food and rest. Then you guys can work from sunup to sundown I don’t care.”

“Fine. But so help me Griffin if you tell me I have stay in this clinic…”

Clarke shook her head. “Nope. You’ll be fine back in your cabin. Your injuries aren’t anything we’d need to keep a close eye on.”

“I’ll stay with you,” he heard Murphy murmur to her. Raven gave him what looked like a grateful smile and nod. 

A little while later, after they’d eaten their fill of the food Jasper and Maya had brought for them, they all dispersed to their own cabins for the evening, Raven using Murphy as a crutch, hobbling until he just went ahead and picked her up to carry her the rest of the way, despite her protests. Murphy wasn’t the strongest of them, but there wasn’t far to go. He and Clarke went with them to help settle her in before heading to their own cabin.

“I’m glad they made it back before night fell. I’d hate for them to have to spend another night out there,” Clarke mused.

“Me too.”

“Did anyone go let Aurora know?” 

“Yeah, O said she would before going home. She looked tired though, maybe I should’ve offered to go instead,” Bellamy wondered with a frown. His sister was exceedingly capable, but she still didn’t need to be hiking all the way out to the lighthouse that evening. 

“Yeah, growing a baby will do that to you,” Clarke smirked. Bellamy just chuckled a little anxiously. “Stop, Bell, she’s fine. If she’s too tired to make the trip back, she’ll just crash with Aurora for the night.”

“You’re right. Thanks,” he said, feeling a little better about it. “So what’s next?” he asked, as they got in the cabin. He immediately went over to build a fire. Now that the sun had fallen, it was cold again. He couldn’t wait until summer when they didn’t have to do this every night.

Clarke took her time answering, which he noticed, but said nothing about. She dug through their packs until she found the thermal she’d worn the night before on the Rig. By the time he had joined her in bed, she was already nestled under the blankets waiting for him. She turned on her stomach and propped herself on his chest as he laid on his back.

“So… what’s next. Well, we have the biggest piece out of the way, and Raven and Monty will be busy working on the radios, but there’s still an important part that needs to be taken care of. Sooner than later,” she finally told him.

He took a deep breath and stared at the ceiling. “Roan.”

She nodded and bit her lip. “And it needs to be me that goes.”

Bellamy groaned. “I know but I don’t have to like it.”

She smiled a bit. “I know. But we - we’re sort of friends? I don’t know, something like that. And I spent time with him, he knows how important this is to me, he’ll listen to me.”

“I’ve known him longer than you have,” he pointed out.

“That’s true, but… you should probably stay here,” she told him with a smirk that he ignored.

He groaned again. “Well you can’t go alone.”

“I can take Miller? I mean, he just got back though.”

“When were you planning on leaving?” he asked. This was happening fast, so much faster than he’d thought it would, but it made sense. Once Clarke got the ball rolling, he supposed it was always going to be one thing after another until it was all over.

“A couple days, probably.”

He considered that a second. Part of him rebelled heavily against the idea that she’d be leaving for Polis, even though he knew she should be able to stay out of any crosshairs. She wasn’t planning on talking to anyone but Roan, drawing him out with an arrow with a vague note attached. And she was right, it should be her that talks to him. Whatever connection they had was going to be key in convincing Roan to betray his sister.

He couldn’t relate. It’d be too hard for him to be the one to do it. 

“Okay, but you’re taking Miller. Or someone. You shouldn’t go alone,” he told her, finally looking at her. 

“I can handle myself,” she insisted, stubbornly. And he would have never expected any different. She wrinkled her nose a little. He reached over and smoothed it out.

“I know. But even so. You shouldn’t go to Polis alone. Floukru won’t exactly be welcomed after what happened.”

“Fine.”

“Thank you.”

Bellamy let out a breath he’d been holding and looked back at the ceiling until he felt Clarke’s lips brush his jawline. He shifted his head down to her so he could capture her lips instead, bringing his hand up to the side of her head to hold her there. 

When they finally parted, lips slightly swollen and sucking in the oxygen that they’d just deprived their lungs of, Clarke laid her head on his chest, swinging a leg over his like she did practically every night. Like she was holding him to her. And his arm was wrapped around her body, hand resting on her thigh holding her to him. They’d spent enough time apart and they would spend even more time separated before this was all over.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading, I hope you enjoyed it!
> 
> Stay safe and healthy everyone, and I'm hoping to have chapter 29 ready on Wednesday or Thursday.
> 
> Have a great week!
> 
> ❤
> 
> If you want to come check out the moodboard for this fic, or hang out with me on my [tumblr](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/post/615240515568451584/grounderkingbellamy-moved-by-you-by-dayo488), come say hi!


	29. Chapter 29

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hey all!
> 
> I just want to say, you all are WONDERFUL and I'm so thankful that you're still with me!
> 
> ❤
> 
> Again, technology disclaimer, I know next to nothing about how these things work, so a little suspended belief might be order for those who do haha.

“Forget it. I’m going, Bell. It’s an easy mission. There and back,” Octavia argued. It was the next day and he and Clarke had just come from Raven’s cabin, where she and Monty had woken up at the crack of dawn - much to Murphy’s irritation - to get started on the radios. Then they’d met Octavia at the dining hall for breakfast.

“And if something happens?” he persisted, waving his fork at her.

O scowled. “I can take care of myself.”

Bellamy was having deja vu, he was sure of it. Both of the most important women in his life were always insisting they could take care of themselves.

Which, to be frank, they could. He knew that. They were more than competent.

But that also meant that the two most important women in his life would be gone, headed towards enemy territory and he wasn’t sure his heart could take the worry. A small part in the back of his brain noted that he might be being the tiniest bit selfish.

“What do you think?” he asked, turning to Clarke. 

“Oh this is between the two of you, leave me out of it,” she answered amusedly, burying her nose even further into her dish.

“I want to know what you think,” he repeated softly, but intentionally. He really did value her opinion, knowing that she’d be honest with him. 

She bit her lip and wouldn’t meet her eyes. Which effectively meant that she was about to agree with Octavia. 

He was getting really good at reading her these days.

“I think it’s a risk, as all things like this are, but for what it is? She’s not wrong, it’s pretty low risk. There and back,” she echoed O, choosing her words carefully. He knew she didn’t want to outright side with his sister - she hated taking sides between them. But still, he’d asked for honesty and she gave it to him. 

“What if something happens to the baby?”

“Clarke will be there,” O said obviously. “Anything that happens, she can handle it. I’m not going to overdo it. Just an extra set of eyes to back Clarke up. I’m not far enough along for it to be that big of an issue. We’ll take horses and be back probably even before Lincoln,” O pointed out. 

“And what about Lincoln? What am I supposed to say to him if he is back first?”

“The truth. He trusts my judgement,” she told him, squaring her shoulders up to him and staring him down. It was rare these days that she didn’t back down. She usually only reserved her tough as nails, thunder and lightning tone when she was certain of something.

“Okay. Just, you two - three - are - ” he mumbled, voice breaking a little and he stabbed at his eggs a little too roughly. “Please just be careful.”

Clarke kissed him softly on the cheek and he felt her put a hand on his back. “We will. It’ll be fine. There and back,” she promised.

“There and back.”

***

Clarke and Octavia rode the horses lightly, not wanting to overexert them in the case they needed to make a quick getaway. So the journey to Polis was going to take a bit longer than a day and a half. They’d gone prepared, Bellamy was in no way going to let them go with anything less than a full week of provisions, though the journey as a whole shouldn't take longer than a few days.

When night fell, they found a cave a little out of the way; Octavia said it was one that they’d used quite a bit in their travels back and forth from Polis. It had a little pond inside, courtesy of a hole in the roof, so the horses were able to follow them inside and drink their fill. 

They built a fire and relaxed against the blankets they’d packed and chewed on some of the dried jerky and fruit.

“I know this is a shitty cave, cold and holes in the roof, but damn did I miss this. Being out in the woods, getting out of the village...” Octavia trailed off. “Seriously, the beach is Bellamy’s sanctuary, the forest is mine,” she told Clarke with a smile. O breathed in deeply and Clarke laughed a little. 

“He was just worried about you and the little one,” Clarke told her, not as an admonishment for her frustration, because she understood how hard it was for Octavia to not want to worry her brother but to also be allowed to make her own decisions.

O harrumphed. “I know he is. He’s always worried about me. But I’m an adult, and married, and about to be a _mother_ and he has to let me figure it out.”

Clarke just chuckled, knowing that this debate between O and Bellamy was an old one, one that they’d had a million times before and one that they would probably have a million more of.

“Tell me something.”

Clarke looked up from where she layed on her pack, to see Octavia’s gaze directed at her across the fire.

“Like what?”

Octavia shrugged.

Clarek considered for a moment. Despite how many conversations they’d had over the course of the last 6-7 months since they’d known each other, there was still a lot they hadn’t really talked about. A lot that they still had to learn about the other. Their relationship had always been one where the silence had been comfortable, both never feeling like they _had_ to be talking. 

But Octavia was safe, easily one of her best friends, and her actual _sister_ now, and Clarke enjoyed opening up to her. 

So - “I miss my parents,” she told O, simple and straightforward. “And I’m afraid I might never see them again,” she added, voice breaking a little.

Octavia gave her a soft smile of encouragement before she laid back down. “Tell me about them,” she requested. 

So Clarke did.

“My mom was - ” Clarke chuckled. “ - _is_ fierce. Her personality, her voice, her opinion. She doesn’t back down for anything. Oh man, we used to get in _so many_ fights, O. My dad always had to send us to our corners to cool down when we got too heated. But she loved me intensely. Even through all our disagreements, there was never any malice, or spite, it was just two explosive, tenacious people who clashed.”

Octavia let out a laugh. “Yeah, she sounds like you. Never one to roll over.”

“No, certainly not. It made her a great leader on the Ark. But it also made her uncompromising, which was either a blessing or a curse, depending on the situation. She was never mean, never cruel, but she was intractable.” Octavia just hummed so she continued. “So enter my dad. He was the opposite, he reminds me of a wave. He was strong and resilient, but adaptable, open-minded. He loved to stretch and grow and usually dragged me and my mom along with him. He was always challenging us to be better, do better.”

Then something he used to tell her struck her. “He used to say if you see something wrong, you can do something or you can do nothing.”

“That’s… astute,” Octavia said and Clarke smiled. “Kind of what you’ve been telling us lately. About Ontari.”

“Yeah. I guess it has been. I don’t think I realized that was where I’d got it from, though, not until just now.”

“Things like that have a way of staying with you, in the back of your mind.” 

“Do you have anything like that?” Clarke asked.

“Hmm,” Octavia pondered. “Uh, yeah. I guess. I - I used to have nightmares, when I was younger. When Mom didn’t come home before bed, it was just Bell and I. I’d be so afraid that that would be the time she didn’t or couldn’t come home. And that it would just be him and I from then on. It was before Murphy. But I’d wake up, screaming for Mom, telling whatever monster my mind cooked up that night to leave her alone, to let her come back to us.”

Clarke had heard some of this from Bellamy, how hard it as when it was just the two of them. How Aurora hadn’t really had a choice and been at the mercy of the leader of Sonchahou. But Octavia rarely talked about that time.

“Bell would crawl into bed with me and shush me and hold me while I cried. He told me to not let my fear control me. That it was a demon and to slay the demon, I should close my eyes and tell myself that I am not afraid.

“I guess that’s stuck with me. It kind of backfired, though. I think at some point eventually Bell actually wished for me to have _more_ fear so I wouldn’t run headlong into danger all the time,” O chuckled to herself at that. 

“I’m glad you had each other. I know you’d rather have had Aurora too, but it sounds nice, growing up with a sibling.”

“Yeah it was pretty awesome. Until Murphy came along - then it was just annoying,” she joked. “Having _two_ older brothers on my case all the time? No wonder I rebelled whenever I got a chance.”

They talked a little while longer, trading stories, more lighthearted ones though then the ones they’d started with. Octavia talked about a game that Bellamy invented when they were stuck inside due to the snow or rain - Lilypads. It would make a mess of things, knocking stuff over as they hopped from the table to the bed to the chairs, but Bellamy would never make her clean it up after; he’d just put her to bed and do it himself.

That sounded like him. Always looking after everyone else.

And Clarke told her about when she was twelve and wanted to sneak out of their cabin after her parents fell asleep, so her and Wells could pretend they were secret agents on secret missions in the hallways and had to avoid the night guards. She told Octavia about one time when they got caught by another Council member, Marcus Kane, and thought they’d get in BIG trouble, scared witless, when her father had all of sudden appeared behind them, telling Kane that there was something he had needed to check on in Engineering and that Wells and Clarke had begged to come with.

‘After Kane accepted the excuse, albeit reluctantly, Clarke had expected to be grounded for weeks, but Jake just asked if he could join their secret mission and that their goal should be the ice cream stored in the communal kitchen a few doors down.

Clarke had a feeling he’d never really been asleep when they snuck out, that he’d probably followed them every time, to keep them out of trouble, but not ruin their fun.

Octavia told her that she wished she could’ve been there on the missions too, and told her that she should teach her new nephew or niece those games too, then they could play together and pull one over on Lincoln and Bell.

They fell asleep eventually, late into the night, laughter in their throats and smiles on their lips.

\------------------------

“I don’t think I’ve ever been on this side of the tower before,” Octavia whispered from where they were stationed up in a tree.

They’d left the horses against the same tree that Roan had tied the two he’d loaned them the last time. Octavia strapped her pack on her back and her sword at her hip and Clarke had her bow and quiver on her own back and a messenger bag hanging off her shoulder. 

They saw the guards stationed out by the entrance to Polis and instead of risk being seen, stuck with the forest. They’d found a tree with a good sightline to Roan’s house behind the tower, taking the long way around to avoid the heart of the city. It had taken an extra amount of time to get there, but it was better than being seen by any of Ontari’s sentries. 

Unfortunately, it looked like they’d be stuck there for a while. Roan was obviously not home and Clarke didn’t want to send the arrow without being sure that he would be the one to retrieve the message. She’d left it deliberately vague, her handwriting would be enough of a giveaway to him. And it was still mid-day and the meeting they were going to have would be closer to midnight anyway, so they had some time.

Octavia swung her feet off the branch, the tree bushy enough that even if someone knew they were there, they’d have a hard time spotting them. And even pregnant, Octavia had climbed the tree like it was nothing. 

Clarke had a harder time. She’d never actually climbed a tree before, so she tried to put her feet where O’s had gone, but it was still a challenge.

“Yeah, Roan hates the crowds and being too close to the city so he made sure his house was out of the way,” she explained.

“Smart. I wouldn’t want that either. And it helps us stay out of sight too.”

They didn’t bother saying much after that, both concentrating hard on the few people that did pass by the house and staying quiet so they wouldn’t get caught. Being in Polis again, it had every nerve in her body constantly on edge. She was more anxious about being there again than she expected to be. Clarke was glad she wasn't alone. 

About an hour before dark, they spotted Roan walking towards his house from the other side of the tower. 

“Fucking finally,” Octavia said under her breath. Clarke suppressed a chuckle and got into position. 

She had already been in the set position for a while now, her arrow placed and the bowstring stretched back loosely. She wanted to be ready in case they were spotted, however unlikely. Now she set her shoulders back and raised the bow up to the level of her eyes, and stretched the string back.

Roan reached the steps to his house, and the second she saw his hand hit the railing, she let loose her arrow, making sure it hit the door in front of him. She was slightly off, still not as good as she hoped she’d become with years of practice, and the arrow narrowly missed his ear.

“Shit,” she breathed as it whizzed past his head, missing him by inches and embedding itself in the door.

Well at least that went right.

Roan’s head whipped around and in a second he had a knife pulled out and squinted in the direction the arrow had come from. Because it was so close to dark, the sun had already dipped below the treeline, dimming the light available to see with considerably. 

He took a few steps towards the women, and Clarke was nervous that he’d investigate without even looking at the note, leaving it completely. So Clarke notched another arrow and sent it flying again, trying to draw his attention back to the door. Roan’s eyes followed it that time, and she watched as he glanced around warily one more time before walking up the steps to the pair of arrows sticking out of his front door.

_Finally._

It seemed both women were holding their breath as he sheathed his knife and pulled the note off the first arrow. He unrolled it and from her vantage point, Clarke saw his shoulders shake a little and his head shake. He turned his head to his left, towards Clarke and Octavia, and he nodded once before turning to wretch both arrows out of the wood and head inside.

“Here we go,” Octavia said, wiggling her eyebrows. Clarke scoffed humorously and shoved lighty at her. 

“Let’s go. We’ve got to get to the cabin and keep watch on it. We don’t want anyone knowing we’re there.”

\------------------------

They still had an hour to go until midnight by Clarke’s estimation, and the cabin they were watching hadn’t seen a soul since they got there.

It was probably why Bellamy had chosen it for them to get married in. 

Being there flooded her with memories. The hope, the love, the commitment they had for each other brought a fresh wave of longing to be near him, to feel his hands around her and his lips connected with hers. Despite what followed, the circumstances surrounding them, the pain they went through, it was still the best night of her life. 

Clarke knew Bellamy regarded it the same.

“Come on, let’s go,” Clarke told her, nodding her head in the direction of the cabin.

“You ready for this?”

“I think so… I don’t know. It’s a big ask,” Clarke mused, shaking her head a little. “I have hope though. I have to.”

“Careful, you’re starting to sound like my brother,” Octavia said with a smirk.

Clarke huffed. “There are worse things,” she retorted.

Clarke kept watch out the front of the cabin and Octavia the back. 

“Movement,” Clarke whispered, crouching down soundlessly. Octavia joined her at the front of the cabin, taking the window on the other side of the door. She carefully unsheathed her sword and peered out. Clarke made sure her bow was loaded correctly and at the ready.

Roan rounded the tree directly to the left of the cabin, knife out and walking carefully and quietly up the steps. Clarke’s heart was pounding a mile a minute. There was so much riding on this. Forget even just trying to get him to agree, right now she was concerned that he’d told someone that she was here, or worse, told _Ontari_.

She should never have brought Octavia. She should have done this alone. 

He creaked the door open, and she put a finger to her lips at Octavia. O nodded and melted into the shadows of the corner. In one swift motion, she walked silently across the cabin to get him in her sights, pointing the arrow directly at his face.

Roan startled, dropped his knife and put his hands up. “Come on now, Princess.”

Clarke held him steady while Octavia came up behind him, kicked his knees out and held the sword to his throat.

“Were you followed?”

Roan rolled his eyes. “No,” he said pointedly. “Hey, Octavia,” he added with a smirk. “Long time no see.”

“Did you tell anyone you were coming here? That I was here?”

“Do you seriously think I would do that?” he asked incredulously. The answer was no, obviously. Clarke knew he could be trusted, but this wasn’t the time to be wrong. She had to be sure.

“No, I don’t.” Clarke sighed and lowered her bow, unhitching the arrow. “O, it’s fine.”

Octavia nodded and released him, but she didn’t resheath her sword. Roan swiped his knife off the floor and tucked it in his belt. 

“ _‘Is this the part where you kill me?’_ ” he quoted the note she sent with the arrow earlier. “Really?” he mocked. He squared up to her and folded his arms across his chest.

“I knew you would know what it meant, where to go. And it got you here, didn’t it?”

“Hmm,” he acknowledged. “And now that you’ve got me here, what are you going to do with me? Sick of Blake already?” he teased, dropping his voice. Octavia let out a low noise from behind him. “What? No hug?”

“Very funny. We need to talk,” she told him.

“I gathered. Miss me already?”

Clarke shook her head, but smiled at him anyway. “I’m glad you’re okay. I was afraid Ontari would punish you too.”

“Nah, she wouldn’t dare, even if she had proof that I helped you. Too many people on my side - she needs me.”

Clarke exchanged a look with Octavia. _Good to know_.

“Thank you, by the way, for the horses and supplies. I’m not - I’m not sure Bellamy would have made it back without it all.”

Roan lifted his head. “So Lover Boy made it out alive, hmm?”

“Yeah, he’s good,” Octavia piped in, coming from the back of him to stand next to Clarke.

“Huh. And I see congratulations are in order,” he said, nodding to the protruding bump on Octavia’s abdomen. He flicked his gaze between the two of them for a moment before taking a seat next to the empty fireplace. It was still cold in Polis, not snowfall cold, but still more wintry than back home, so they’d considered starting a fire, but they didn’t want to attract more attention than necessary.

Quick trip. _There and back_.

It was a promise she intended on keeping. 

“So what’s this about? Can’t be an attack, the two of you are formidable, sure, but taking on all of Azgeda?” 

“It’s not an attack. We aren’t planning an attack, Roan. But - ”

“Something, though. You’re planning something.”

“Yes.”

“I figured as much. You wouldn’t be you without some kind of plan.” He leaned back in his chair, and waited for her to go on. Now that he was here and waiting, she froze. She didn't want to say the wrong thing, get off on the wrong foot and she was hesitating. “Well?” he prodded. “Your move, Princess.”

“Stop calling me that,” she said with a smirk, and it was nice, joking with him again. He was still insufferable, but that was just who he was. 

“Come on, it’s the perfect joke. You’re the Princess, I’m the Prince,” he continued.

Her opening.

There it was.

“I don’t want you to be the Prince.”

He narrowed his eyes on her, clearly catching on to the fact that she was about to be headed somewhere. “I don’t have much of a choice in that matter. Being _born_ as the Prince of Azgeda and all.”

“I mean, I don’t want you to be the Prince - I want you to be the _King_.”

He lifted his chin and his eyes switched from narrow to wide, not having expected her to say that. “I can’t be King. Remember? Red blood and all? We’ve had this conversation before, Clarke.”

“What if you could be?”

“Gonna need more.”

“If Ontari wasn’t Heda anymore, wasn’t in control of the coalition or of Polis… what would that make you?”

“Well, see, short of an assassination, which is punishable by death - or worse, I don’t really see that happening.”

She considered him a moment, glancing over at Octavia who gave her a reassuring grin with one eyebrow cocked up smugly.

“What if an assassination wasn’t the only way?”

“It is.”

“Just humor me a moment, maybe? Damn.”

Roan chuckled. “Then sure, I suppose that would make me King. But I wouldn’t really be in charge, not when a new nightblood ascended after a Conclave. But Titus’s recruits aren’t ready for that yet. Ontari has been delaying their training so she won’t have competition for as long as possible,” he told them, irritation in his tone.

Her second opening.

“What if there was another nightblood, _not_ part of the new recruits, willing to take the Flame?”

Roan’s chuckle turned into a full on laugh when he realized who she was talking about. Thankfully not loud enough to attract attention though. 

“What’s so funny?”

“I should’ve guessed. You could sell an armless man a sword, you know that?”

Clarke waited for him to settle his laughter to continue. “The Flame should be Luna’s, Roan.”

“She fled her Conclave. Her rights to the Flame are gone, according to our laws,” he pointed out, and while his words pointed to disagreement, his tone was more curious. He really was wondering if she’d thought of that. “And Azgeda will never give up Polis.”

“They wouldn’t have to.”

She explained the rest of the plan then, Octavia joining in. Roan listened intently, pointing out flaws and nodding when he heard their solutions. He poked hole after hole, but Clarke and Bellamy’s plan held steady. 

There was a point when he looked down nervously, that Clarke knew they had him. He knew that it was a good strategy, that it would work. Now all that was left was the decision whether to side against his sister or not and she could see it weighing heavily on him.

This was the line in the sand. The point of no return. 

Would he stick by his blood? Or would he do the right thing?

The air was thick. Octavia had faded back to the background again, as a sister, Clarke knew she could uniquely understand that bond better than Clarke could. 

Bellamy and Octavia were _not_ Roan and Ontari, not even close, but still.

“She shouldn’t be leading the coalition, Roan. She shouldn’t have the power that she does. To lead with fear? With violence? Something has to give, or many more _innocent_ people will die.”

“I know.” 

“How many stories did you tell me while - ”

“Clarke, I know,” he interrupted, all teasing, all the joking gone from his tone.

And this was when she finally allowed that little niggle of doubt that was hanging in the back of her mind to creep in. Not doubt that he knew this was the best plan, the right choice, she knew he agreed with them. He’d said as much many times over.

Now he had to figure out whether he could actually go through with it.

***

Bellamy hated that Clarke was in Polis. He wasn’t worried, necessarily, because as much as he’d fought them on it, he knew they’d both been right. The risk wasn’t substantial. Both Clarke and his sister knew how to stay out of sight. The biggest risk they were taking was whether Roan was still on their side or not, and Clarke seemed pretty certain that he would be.

Or at least enough on their side not to turn them in to Ontari. Even if he ultimately agreed that betraying Ontari was taking it a step too far, that he’d rather have a ruthless, power hungry dictator as a leader if it kept Azgeda in complete control of the coalition, Bellamy agreed with Clarke that he at least didn’t want active danger to come to Clarke or Octavia. 

Still, he hated that she - or O - were closer to Ontari than to him. If something went wrong, he wouldn’t even know about it until it was too late.

In the couple of days since they’d been gone, he’d had plenty to focus on back in the village though, to keep his mind off whether Clarke and Octavia were successful or not. As much as he hated not being able to help, there was nothing he could do about it and he had to assume Clarke would be able to get through to Roan like she did Luna and move forward with what needed to happen next.

Which was the trip to the Pod. Raven was pretty confident the battery she’d left there would be sufficient in charging the radios, so he needed to figure out who he was sending on this particular trip.

Lincoln was still not back yet, so Bellamy wouldn’t be able to join the expedition. Which he’d been hoping to do. So that left Monty and Miller to head out the next morning, and they were planning to be gone not longer than two days. Clarke and Octavia would hopefully be back tomorrow evening. It was probably a good thing he wasn’t headed to the Pod; he’d end up missing their return.

He headed over to Raven’s cabin, where she and Monty had been working most days trying to get the parts they’d scavenged to work. He’d mostly stayed clear, since he had less than zero knowledge about anything tech related. From what he could gather of the snippets of conversation he’d paid attention to, it would give them the ability to communicate over long distances. Which was looking more and more distinctly like a possibility as the practicalities of what the operation would actually entail became clearer.

They knew they would be using the bridge he, O and Raven had used the last time they were in Polis as an emergency exit. They’d left it pretty broken and bare, but that would just make it easier to use as an escape route. Raven assured them that if it came down to it, they’d take the bridge down so no one would be able to follow them. 

Bellamy hoped that would never become a need, but it was nice to know they had it if it did.

He shook himself off a little before he entered the cabin, not wanting to dwell on the fact that Clarke and O weren’t back and that internally he was trying to keep a lid on his worry. He just wanted to keep his mind clear and off of all the many possibilities of what they could be going through.

“DAMNIT!” he heard Raven shout from inside. 

_So that is going well._

He pushed the door open and peered inside, not wanting to get hit by anything being thrown across the room. Raven had a bit of a tendency to do that.

“Raven, it’ll be fine. I’m sure if we can’t get it working that the Pod has - ” Monty was saying before Raven interrupted.

“I know it does,” she sighed. “I just - it’s just going to be you and Miller on the trip and I don’t want you to have to carry more than you need to.”

“We’ve got it, we’ll be fine.”

Bellamy walked up to Murphy, who was lounging on Raven’s bed reading a book that the last time Bellamy saw, was on the shelf in _his_ cabin. He seemingly didn’t even notice Raven’s outburst.

“Looks like things are going well in here,” he said sarcastically. 

Without even looking up from the book, Murphy responded, “Wait for it.”

“What?” Bellamy asked, confused.

“YES! Got it, fucking finally!” Raven exclaimed. Monty just laughed and shook his head.

“See?” Murphy chuckled. “Something goes wrong, she swears, she yells, then she figures it out.”

“Okay…” Bellamy trailed off, amused by the fact that Murphy knew her so well. 

“I think they’re getting close though,” he added.

“How can you tell?” Bellamy asked, taking in the table full of metal scraps and wires and random black boxes of things.

Murphy shrugged, finally setting the book down next to him. Bellamy dragged a chair next to the side of the bed and sat down. “Well, that’s been happening less and less. And they’ve already got one done. I was playing around with it until they took it away from me,” he said petulantly. “Said something about not wanting me to break it,” he scoffed.

“Can you blame me? You were acting like a child with it! Tossing it in the air, pretending to say nonsense into it, hiding under the bed, in corners…” Raven trailed off.

“I was _practicing_ ,” he shot back with a smirk. Raven flicked her eyes over to them and gave him a small smile though. “All this tech stuff gets boring. Just trying to liven it up a little,” he mumbled. Raven threw a piece of wire in their direction.

“So this is really going to work, huh?” he asked them.

“You doubted me?” Raven asked, one eyebrow raised.

“Yes, this is going to work. Assuming the battery will charge them,” Monty answered.

“It will,” Raven insisted.

Monty asked for something called a _capacitor_ and Bellamy tuned it out, turning back to Murphy.

“Things seem to be going… well with you and - ” he said quietly, tilting his head towards Raven. 

Murphy got a smug look on his face, clearly trying to act cool about it, but his eyes were bright and joyful. “Yeah, I guess it is.”

“Good. I’m glad you’re happy.”

Murphy chuckled a little and averted his eyes, swinging them back around to Raven. “How’re you holding up?”

“Fine,” he deflected. “Why wouldn’t I be?”

Murphy whipped his head around to face Bellamy but this time Bellamy was the one who averted his eyes.

“Huh, well maybe because the love of your life and the sister you basically raised are in arguably the most dangerous place on Earth trying to convince a ruthless killer’s brother to betray her and because you are the most overprotective person I’ve ever known” he said, with eyes narrowed. Bellamy glared right back, holding his stare until something came whizzing out of the air to his left, hitting Murphy square in the side of the face - a tennis ball it looked like.

“What the fuck?” Murphy said, rounding on the two at the table.

Monty stood and squared up to Murphy. “Well, don’t be a dick.”

“Hey! I was just trying to make sure he didn’t try to deny it. I was being _nice_ ,” Murphy insisted, which Bellamy actually knew to be true. It was Murphy’s way of making sure he wasn’t running from his anxiety and instead facing it. He didn’t have any tact about it, but Bellamy was long used to his straightforwardness.

Bellamy chuckled a little and stood with them. “Thank you for your concern, both of you. I hate that they’re there without us, but Clarke and O can take care of themselves, and they have each other. They’ll be fine.”

“Okay, now that that’s settled, Monty and I have shitton to finish before he leaves tomorrow. Get,” Raven shooed them off with a wave of her hand. But as Bellamy moved to leave, she caught his wrist and looked up at him. “They can handle it. They’re tough and will be back before you know it,” she told him softly. Raven could be loud and abrasive and curt, but Bellamy knew she cared, that she worried after them too.

He gave her a small smile and nodded, “Thanks Raven.”

\------------------------

“Okay. Remember, the battery is connected to the…” Raven was talking to Monty, explaining last minute instructions on how to disconnect the various equipment. Monty had everlasting patience, the kind Bellamy could only hope one day to exhibit, but Bellamy could see it thinning as he nodded at her.

“Rae, I know,” he insisted, gripping her by the shoulders. “It’s going to be fine. I’ve got it,” Monty reassured her. 

“Of course you do. You think I would trust the tech to anyone else? I wouldn't be able to do any of this without you, Monty,” she told him in a surprising show of vulnerability. Harper beamed up at Monty, her arm wrapped around his. “I’m just - ”

“She’s jealous. She wishes she could go,” Murphy interjected. Raven scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Hey you two be safe, okay?” he added, reaching an arm out to shake.

Monty’s eyebrows shot up in surprise at the sentiment as Bellamy looked on in amusement. “Careful, it _almost_ sounds like you care, Murphy” he teased. 

“Don’t get used to it,” he said with a smirk. 

“Well, _I_ care,” Bellamy spoke up, extending his own arm out to Monty. “About both of you,” he added, looking at Miller and clasping his forearm too. 

“Of course you do, you’re like a teddy bear on the inside,” Murphy heckled. 

“Okay, boys. My turn,” Harper gently tugged Monty away and both Bellamy and Murphy avoided their eyes so they could have some privacy.

“It’s just a couple days, sheesh,” Murphy mumbled.

Bellamy narrowed his eyes at him. “You know anything can happen in a couple days. For all we know, Ontari has Azgeda or what’s left of Skaikru watching the Pod.”

Murphy looked a little more apprehensive then, and his eyes focused on the ground. 

“Spit it out, Murphy,” Bellamy sighed.

“You’re right, okay? Anything can happen and I was a jackass to say the things I did last night about Clarke and O. I just don’t want you to push stuff down and avoid it, but I was a jerk.”

Bellamy’s eyebrow shot up so high they practically joined his hairline. “Raven tell you to say that?”

Murphy’s eyes narrowed and he scoffed. “She may have _encouraged_ me to say something, yeah. But still, I meant it.”

“She _is_ good for you,” Bellamy teased, smiling now. “John Murphy hardly ever apologizes for being an ass.”

“Shut up.”

“There he is.”

They took turns shoving each other for a few minutes more before finishing their goodbyes to Miller and Monty. Raven then surprised them all with something she called flares for them, made out of some gunpowder from Miller’s gun for them to take in case they ran into trouble. 

“Jasper and I have been working on them for a few days,” she explained. “Just finished them last night.”

Jasper nodded. “Yep. I had the idea to use gunpowder from some of Miller’s bullets. I figured this way you can send up a warning in case you run into trouble.”

“At least until we get the walkies up and working.”

“Or if they fail,” Jasper added, to which he received a glare from both Monty and Raven at the insinuation that their radios would stop working. “Which, I’m sure they won’t. But still, good to be prepared.”

“Yes, thank you. That was a great idea,” Bellamy affirmed and Jasper’s expression turned into a small smile. 

Monty laughed and he and Jasper did their self-five that no one really understood before giving each other a hug.

Then before they knew it, it was time to leave. Raven and Murphy went back to her cabin to work more on the radios, and Harper to the clinic.

“Hey Jas, you want to show me how those flares work?”

“Sure thing boss man,” he said with a smile and immediately launched into the inner workings of how he and Raven put them together and which chemical did what, which wasn’t exactly what Bellamy had meant, but it kept them busy enough for the rest of the day. 

And when Jasper showed him an example of what it looked like launched, sending it out into the ocean so it wouldn’t accidentally harm anything in the village or forest nearby, Bellamy thought of how resistant he’d been to anything Skaikru at the beginning of all of this last summer. He thought of how much he would have missed, the people he wouldn’t have gotten a chance to know or love, if he hadn’t given it a chance. The way each of them contributed or improved their way of living, how much both sides taught the other so they could live in peace.

This was what they wanted to do with the Flame. Teach others how to have harmony and true alliance between all clans.

\------------------------

Bellamy was in the clinic the next day with Harper when he heard the shouting.

“ - llamy!” 

Both he and Harper ran to the front door, Harper having just finished setting a man’s dislocated arm and he wretched the door open with perhaps a little bit too much vigor.

Madi was sprinting for them up the path some, panting with how fast she was willing her little legs to run.

“Bellamy! Bellamy!” she shouted, breathless. “ _Emo komb’ir! Emo komb’ir!_ ” She didn’t stop running even as she approached the clinic, barreling straight into Bellamy’s legs, forcing him back a few steps. 

“Madi, who’s coming?” he asked, since she had just said _they_. That could mean anyone. He scooped her up in his arms. 

“Clarke! And Octavia! _Emo komb’ir!_ ” she said, pointing towards the gate.

Harper laughed a little at the five year old’s insistence. “Well, _strikon_ , lead the way,” she said sweetly.

Bellamy put her down and she took off. He started after her, but turned back when he realized Harper wasn’t following. 

“Go on, I’m going to make sure he has everything he needs and I’ll meet you up there,” she told him with a soft smile, nodding back to indicate the man she’d just finished helping before Madi ran up.

He nodded back, then took a deep breath and took off for the gates. Part of Bellamy felt like he should be running - this was the very thing he’d been on edge waiting for the last few days after all.

But still, the excitement in Madi’s voice, the smile with which she’d told him they were coming, gave him hope that they were okay.

That didn’t stop him from _walking_ a little faster than usual, though.

Once he reached the gates, the horses that O and Clarke were on had meandered inside already. They were laughing at something one of them had said and looked like they were getting ready to dismount when he caught Clarke’s eye.

Her smile disappeared for a moment before it came back in full force, reaching all the way up to her eyes, brightening the vivid blue that he knew so well now. 

She hopped down, shedding the bow and quiver on her back, and met him in the middle where his arms were already open for her. She wrapped her own around his neck, burrowing her nose in his neck.

“Hey stranger,” she whispered into his skin, making him chuckle a little before bending down to greet his wife with a kiss.

“Oh for Pete’s sake, it’s been like four days!” Murphy laughed at them. “Welcome back _flougada_ ,” he added, and turning to Octavia said, “and you too little Blake.”

Octavia smirked and smacked him in the shoulder, pulling him in for a hug. Bellamy continued placing his attention on Clarke though, squeezing her tight for a last moment before releasing her to greet his sister too.

“You both look happy?” Murphy asked the girls, folding his arms in question. 

Bellamy held his breath. They were off making sure the other major part of their plan was a go and while they were all smiles, he tried not to get his hopes up too much. His hand sought out Clarke’s, who quickly intertwined their fingers.

She and Octavia exchanged a look. “Well, I finally got to leave the village for a little while, of course I’m happy,” Octavia laughed. 

“That’s not what I meant,” Murphy pointed out impatiently. 

“Hey you two! Ohh, I’m so happy you’re home!” Harper exclaimed coming up behind him to give them hugs too. Bellamy’s anxiety level over not knowing what happened in Polis was never going to come down if people kept interrupting.

And then they were joined by Jasper and Raven and the greetings happened all over again.

“Oh I can’t stand this anymore, _what happened_?” Murphy said, exasperated. “Is the Azgeda Prince going to help us or not?”

Octavia smirked and Clarke bit her lip. “We’re a go,” she said excitedly.

Bellamy laughed, pulling her back into him as cheers rose around him. “Seriously?” he asked. “Roan agreed?”

Clarke grinned and scrunched her nose a little. “He did.” Her grin faded microscopically though. “He’s… regretful it had to come to this. But he understands, and agrees, even. He knows Ontari shouldn’t be in charge. And he’s grateful that Azgeda is still being given the chance to control Polis.” She chuckled a little. “He was surprised we weren’t planning on outright killing her.”

“To be honest, it still surprises me sometimes too. But it’s - ”

“ - the right thing to do,” she finished for him. Clarke tilted her head up, and gripped either side of his neck to bring him down for a kiss. When they parted, she smiled once again. “Here we go.”

“Here we go,” he agreed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Here we go! 
> 
> Whew! I know this is WAY longer than anyone thought it would be, but I hope that you're still enjoying it and looking forward to us starting to head to Polis in the next chapter! I just finished writing the last chapter this morning, so I can officially confirm a total of 33 chapters. Next update should be Monday! 
> 
> Thanks for being along for the ride everyone! ❤


	30. Chapter 30

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe we're HERE!
> 
> I'm going to be so sad when this over, I've enjoyed this story with all its ups and downs SO much. And interacting with all of you has just been SO WONDERFUL.
> 
> Enjoy friends ❤

The next few weeks were spent in a crazy flurry of busyness as they readied the final details to get ready to leave. Clarke felt like there were never enough hours in the day. All the planning, preparation and hope that they had in what they were doing was inching closer and closer.

The night her and Octavia had gotten back was whirlwind, going back over with everyone what Roan had told them about what role he was willing to play, the support he was willing to give. He was even going to be helping them sneak in Polis undetected. 

She appreciated it for many reasons, but he was sticking his neck out for them, for peace, knowing how likely it was that _someone_ was going to lose their life at some point. Before she and Octavia had left that cabin, they‘d had to come to terms with that. As much as they hoped for a bloodless takeover, it was probably not the most feasible outcome. 

Clarke hated the idea of sacrificing the few for the many, and she would do what she needed to keep that from happening. But she also knew that sometimes you had to make difficult choices and if someone was going to take that on, she’d do it. Once again, she’d bear it so they didn’t have to.

And she could make damn sure no one who was innocent died at the hands of Ontari ever again. 

She and Bellamy went around and around for hours about it. He wanted to bear it _with_ her, even _instead_ of her, and she insisted that it wasn’t his cross to bear. That _she_ started this, and _she_ would be the one to finish it. He’d thrown his hands up, frustrated, until she explained that it wasn’t about not wanting to accept help or be alone, but about taking responsibility for something that had been _her_ idea. 

Then he’d made the point with her that if she hadn’t, _he_ would’ve. So they’d agreed to disagree and to take it one step at a time. That whenever possible, they’d do it together. 

Lincoln finally came back too, with news that both Trikru and Trishanakru were both ready to be called upon if needed, assuring Lincoln that their armies would be at the ready, despite his insistence that this was supposed to be a non-violent mission. Indra kom Trikru and Illian kom Trishanakru would be meeting them in Polis when it was time to show Ontari that the two clans stood behind Luna and Floukru.

Louwoda Kliron was predictably less supportive, though only in so much that they were hopeful for a positive outcome, but in no way would they fight unless directly attacked. They had expected that response, and while Clarke had been optimistic that they would step up as well and send a representative, they opted out. Which was their right, Clarke had to keep reminding herself. Hopefully the three clans, plus Roan would be enough.

Monty and Miller came back as well, bearing not only the battery from the Pod, but a whole host of tech that had been left behind as well, stuff Raven didn’t even remember was there. It was like Christmas morning on the Ark for her, her fingers running over the various metals and wires and other random stuff Clarke had no name for like they were gold.

She, Jasper, and Monty had set up shop in the meeting hall, all the tech and chemicals strewn across the table as Raven split her time helping Monty with radios and Jasper with flares. 

Clarke found herself constantly having to remind herself that it was really happening, that every day brought them a little bit closer. Everything that was completed was one more thing checked off the list. 

It was now the day before they were to leave. Radios had been tested (and retested, and played with, and goofed around on), flares were still getting finished, but Jasper assured them that they would be ready by the evening. 

Clarke was in her and Bellamy’s cabin, finishing packing before heading to Aurora’s for dinner. Then they would celebrate their last night before they head out having a bonfire on the beach. Clarke came across the small wooden lighthouse that Bellamy had packed for her when she left with Roan for Polis almost two months ago now when the door to the cabin opened and she heard the familiar stride of her husband, stopping just behind her.

“I can’t believe you still have that. I made it so quickly there’s so many mistakes,” Bellamy chuckled, wrapping his arms around her from behind. She leaned her head back on his shoulder and he leaned down to kiss her temple. 

“Of course I still have it, what kind of question is that?” she admonished. “You wouldn’t believe how it helped get me through.” She turned around in his arms, and wrapped her own loosely around her neck. “The real thing is better though,” she told him, giving him a quick kiss to his jaw.

He hummed a bit. “You know, maybe - ” he started but whatever he was going to say died on his lips as his brows furrowed and his eyes locked on something behind her.

She extricated herself from his embrace and turned to see what had caught his attention. Her eyes followed his line of sight and widened as they locked on what he’d seen. She’d forgotten all about them, and hadn’t even realized Roan had packed them until this morning, when she finally emptied her bag from Polis. She’d left it alone this whole time, not wanting anything to do with those three weeks if she didn’t need to.

But she’d needed the travel bag so she’d pull the various items from her room at Roan’s out, the stack of letters to Bellamy hidden at the bottom. 

“Oh, those. Yeah, well, I needed _someone_ to talk to in Polis - other than Roan. Especially since he was driving me crazy half the time,” she laughed. He picked them up.

“These are to me?”

“I know it sounds stupid. But it kept me sane, writing to you. It kept me connected to my home, my family here.”

He smiled at her, and a part of her had expected pity, though she knew it was unfounded. He’d never give her pity, only compassion, understanding.

Then a sly smirk took over his expression. “It’s not stupid. A little pathetic, maybe.”

She let out a snorty laugh, shaking her head and thankful he wasn’t forcing her to relive the moments she was gone, the things she wrote and instead bringing some levity to it instead. 

“I mean, it’s not like I was pining or freaking out for you back here or anything too,” he shrugged.

“Oh yeah?”

“No way, I was as calm as the ocean. Totally fine,” he teased.

“Uh huh. And if I asked Octavia? Murphy? They’d back up your story?” she challenged.

He scoffed. “Fine. I may have been going a little crazy without you too.”

She stepped into him. He tossed the bundle on their bed and wrapped himself around her. “This time, we go together.”

“And you won’t need to write letters anymore. You’ve got me.” He leaned down and kissed her intensely. It was the kind of kiss that had his whole heart in it, giving it all to her, but one that stayed on her lips, one that let that be enough. 

“Come on, we’re never going to finish packing before we have to go down to Aurora’s.”

“Speak for yourself, I finished this morning.”

She laughed, but he let her go and let her finish, telling her that he’d meet her at the meeting hall when she was done so they could walk down together. 

She picked up the bundle of letters, running a finger over it gently before tossing them in the fire, letting them burn to ash. 

They had each other.

\------------------------

“Come on, guys, I was never this bad!” Murphy tried, clearly exasperated over his siblings teasing about Raven. “Are you going to back me up?” he asked her.

“Not a chance. I want to see how far they’ll go,” Raven said with a shrug.

Murphy’s jaw dropped open and everyone burst into a fit of laughter. The six of them had been there for an hour, enjoying ribbing Murphy about his relationship and for the most part, he was taking it in stride. But then Octavia started talking about the hijinks he’d gotten into as a kid and he’d started protesting.

It wasn’t the first time Aurora had met Raven, but it’d been brief before, apparently, since Clarke wasn’t there for it, and even so, Bellamy and Octavia never seemed to tire of giving him a hard time. 

Not that Murphy hadn’t been giving them enough shit for years.

“Okay, okay, let’s give him a break you guys,” Aurora finally said, to Murphy’s defense.

“Finally, someone here who actually _likes_ me,” Murphy pouted.

“Hey! What about me?” Raven protested.

“I’m not convinced of that anymore,” Murphy said, mock offended.

Raven gasped before pulling him to her for a kiss, to which everyone responded with either a gag or a laugh. 

“So are you all set? I can’t believe _all_ of you are leaving,” Aurora said, understanding, but still sorrowful.

Bellamy spoke up before Clarke could. “Yeah, I think we’re all ready. We’ll be alright. This is going to be as non-violent as much as possible, remember? And we do this together,” he told her, squeezing Clarke’s hand and shifting a little more into her where they sat in the living room against the wall.

“We’ll be alright, Mom,” Octavia promised. 

Clarke hated that promises always came with a caveat, a footnote that always casted doubt on whether they’d be able to keep the promise or not. Hopefully one day, most of the danger will have passed and they will be able to make promises without the uncertainty.

“That’s my grandbaby, Octavia Blake. You take care of them, you hear?” Aurora said firmly. None of them were particularly pleased that O had insisted on going, but she and Lincoln were on lookout duty, and would be stationed _outside_ Polis in trees, with their horses nearby, so even if there was fighting, they really wouldn't have to see any of it. 

Unless it went _really_ sideways, and they needed the Trikru and Trishanakru reinforcements, in which case they’d be the runners to notify the clans so Octavia _still_ wouldn’t see much combat. She was to hunker down with Lincoln’s family in Trikru territory. She wasn’t happy about it, but agreed without protest, knowing that protecting the baby was her first priority.

“Nothing is going to happen to the two of them Aurora, we will all see to it,” Lincoln assured her, and Aurora seemed satisfied with that.

“I love you all, and I am so proud to call you my children. Standing up for what is right, what is just, that is all I ever hoped for for all of you. No matter how this ends up going. You have grown up to be fierce, kind, hopeful people and I wouldn’t have it any other way,” she started tearing up and Clarke went to sit next to her, to put a hand on her leg. “And you’ve found love, and happiness and I know no matter what happens tomorrow, you’ll be together. You’re changing the world, making it a better place, and I am honored to know you,” she finished. 

The weight of her words rendered them all silent for a bit, before the tension broke and they were back to telling stories. Clarke and Raven shared a bit of their lives on the Ark, different as they were and Lincoln even shared a bit with them about living in Trikru as a child and what that had been like, how different their clans were.

When it was time to say goodbye finally, Aurora hugged each of them fiercely, and bid them goodbye. The fire on the beach was already raging nearby, and they were lucky it wasn’t raining, as spring - or _sprintam_ in Trig - when everything was beginning to grow again was especially prone to it.

Clarke was just thankful the chill from winter had seemed to finally subside.

She stepped close to the fire, warming her hands regardless, as Bellamy went to get drinks for the two of them. 

“Never thought it’d end up being like this when we signed up back on the Ark, did we?” she heard Miller ask beside her. “It was supposed to be a simple mission, restart society on the ground,” he mused.

She let out a breath. “It was never going to be that simple.”

“You still think they’re coming down?” he asked, looking up. His dad was one of the guards in charge on the Ark, and she knew Miller missed him immensely.

“I hope so,” Monty interjected, coming up on her other side. “I’d love to see my parents again.”

“Me too,” Clarke said with a smile. “I think they will. Maybe they’re just taking their time. Making sure they have everything ready to go. There’s a lot to do up there.”

None of them mentioned any other possibility, preferring instead to believe that they would indeed be reunited with their families at some point.

Once they’d all gotten sufficiently buzzed (except Octavia), Monty and Jasper having made so much moonshine that they’d all probably die if they tried to drink it all, Raven saddled up next to Clarke, who was parked on the sand next to the fire watching Bellamy try to learn some game with a bucket and a ball with Miller, Jasper and Murphy. Or maybe they were making up the game. She couldn’t really tell.

Raven used Clarke’s shoulder to help her get down on the blanket Clarke was sitting on, grunting as she adjusted her leg. Everyone hardly noticed it anymore, Raven wasn’t letting it stop her from doing things as she would’ve before, even if she had a limp doing them now. 

“Hey Griffin.”

“How’re you doing?”

Raven shrugged. “Glad I’m on the right side this time,” she told Clarke, and she assumed Raven was referring to having chosen Finn before. 

“What do you think the Ark would say?” Clarke wondered. “If they knew about this?” It was something Clarke had been thinking about, what her parents would think, if they would support this. It wouldn’t have stopped her if they didn’t, Clarke was sure that she was doing the right thing, but still.

Raven snorted. “They would probably tell us that children have no right to make the decisions and to step aside and let the Council handle things.” She chuckled sardonically. “I mean, they would phrase it nicer, coat it in sweet things like ‘it’s for your own good’ and ‘you shouldn’t have to take it on alone now that we’re here’ and ‘we’re only trying to help’, but really they’d just try and take over like we don’t know how to lead.”

Clarke snorted. “Yeah, you’re not wrong. But _they_ would be. We aren’t children.”

“Nope. And you’re ten times the leader any Chancellor on the Ark has ever been. I know the Jahas were family friends, but every Chancellor has just been _complacent_. Satisfied to maintain the status quo,” she mocked.

Clarke looked out at the ocean. “I’ve never been a fan of the ‘status quo’.”

Raven bumped her shoulder. “And _that’s_ what makes you a good leader. Someone who actually wants to change things.”

“Wow Raven, I don’t think I’ve ever heard you compliment someone so much,” she teased.

Raven narrowed her eyes. “Yeah, well, I’m a little drunk and we all might die tomorrow so…”

Clarke chuckled. “Wow, dark. There’s the Raven I know.”

“Whatever,” the girl laughed and Clarke couldn’t help but join her. 

Murphy wandered over. “There you are. Am I interrupting?” 

“Nope, help me up.” Murphy grinned at her and extended a hand down, but moved it back slightly every time Raven reached out for it. “You’re such an ass.”

Murphy only shrugged. “Eh, you knew that going in.” He handed his cup to Clarke and grabbed both of Raven’s hands, tugging her to her feet. He caught her by her waist and Raven ducked her head. Murphy was the only one who could ever make Raven Reyes blush or act shy. And Clarke figured it was something to do with the way he looked at her. Like she was the only one he ever wanted to look at again. 

She got to her feet and handed the cup back to Murphy. Bellamy walked over then, wrapping his arms around her middle from behind and pressing a kiss to her neck.

Raven groaned. “Oh Clarke, don’t you wish we had music? I miss _dancing_.”

“You know how to dance?” Murphy asked, eyebrow quirked up in curiosity. She could feel the rumble of Bellamy’s laughter. 

“Of course I know how to dance,” Raven told him obviously.

“We’re not _savages_ , we do have music,” Bellamy broke in. Clarke twisted to look up at him. 

“That’s right! I remember some from that first bonfire at the end of summer last year.”

Bellamy smiled down at her and nodded. “We use it for festivals, celebrations, ceremonies, stuff like that.”

“Well if it’s dancing you want - ” Murphy announced dramatically, tossing his cup in the sand. “Then it’s dancing you shall get!” He twirled Raven around and caught her back again, a hand on her waist. Raven threw her head back and laughed and Clarke noticed the others around them starting to take notice.

“Oh dancing!” Harper gushed and Monty galiantly held out his hand to her, which she took with a blush.

Lincoln and Octavia sooned joined in as well, even Jasper and Miller decided to dance together. There was no music, no sounds except their laughter and the crackle of the fire and ever-present sound of the waves crashing on the shore, but no one was complaining. They all moved differently, getting lost in their own moments. 

“What about you? Does the Princess dance?” Bellamy whispered in her ear and squeezed her waist. He kissed the hollow spot just behind her ear softly.

“I was never really one for dancing, but I’m sure I could figure it out. Now if only I had a partner willing to take me on…”

Bellamy’s arms left her, his hand grabbing a hold of hers and spinning her around. Her hair splayed out and he caught her on the turn expertly. “I’ve got you.”

“You always do.”

They danced and swayed and spun with the others. Occasionally someone (usually Jasper) would hum some melody and they adjusted accordingly. Eventually they’d switch partners too - she was torn away from Bellamy first by Miller, then by Lincoln, and finally by Octavia before making her way back to Bellamy. 

“So this music… you said ceremonies, celebrations?” she asked him.

He looked at her suspiciously. “Yes… what’re you thinking?”

She gave him a mischievous look. “Well, maybe once all this is through, and we’re back home and safe with our family and friends… we have that big party Octavia promised us. One that we get to take our time at, one where our lives aren’t being threatened.”

“You want another wedding?” he asked, and Clarke could see the excitement he was trying to tamper down. “One wasn’t enough for you?”

“Hey, who says you can only get married once?

“Well, here on the ground, everyone,” he pointed out. “That’s sorta the point.”

“But what about marrying the same _person_?”

“You’ve made a good argument.” He pretended to think it over, but Clarke knew ever since their first wedding he wanted another back here. He cocked an eyebrow. “So are you proposing?”

Clarke rolled her eyes. “Do I need to?”

He spun her around again. “Well sometimes it’s nice to be asked,” he teased.

She shook her head. “Will you - ” she started, indulging him.

“Yes,” he interrupted, causing a laugh to escape from her lips. He had the hand of hers he was holding clasped to his chest. Then he ducked down so his lips ghosted her ear, inducing a shiver to roll up her spine in response to his closeness. “A hundred times, a hundred ways, a hundred places, _yes_.”

They laughed and danced some more until the giant fire had burned down to embers and they retired to their cabin for the last time for who knew how long, where he showed just how _enthusiastic_ he was to marry her again.

***

The last time Aurora had been in the village was when they’d gotten back from Polis and Bellamy was injured. And he suspected that she’d come back up when her grandchild was born. Since they’d said goodbye the night before, Bellamy hadn’t really been expecting to see her when they were getting ready to leave, an hour before dawn, when the sky was light enough to see, but no sun in sight.

But there she was, waiting by the gates as she used to when he and Octavia and Murphy would try to sneak out as kids, trouble-makers as they were. Even with her many jobs, her sun-up to sun-down responsibilities, any time they even _thought_ about leaving Sonchahou without permission she was there waiting for them like she really did have the ability to read minds.

Her grip was tight, just like the night before, like she was trying to attach a part of herself, probably the protective part, to each of them, to shield them from danger.

Clarke was also on the receiving end of her embrace as well. As were the rest of them, Aurora having unofficially become all of their mothers. 

Murphy was already grumbling about having to miss breakfast until their second surprise showed up, Maya, who had packed food for all of them. 

In all, it was Miller, Murphy, Raven, Lincoln, Octavia, Luna (who had arrived a couple hours ago), and then he and Clarke. Indra and Illian and their warriors would meet them there. They debated tirelessly over the past few weeks whether to take anyone else, any more warriors, but in the end, this was something that they needed to do together. Any more and it would seem too threatening anyway.

Harper and Monty and Jasper were there too, all three with tears in their eyes. Jasper had been able to make one flare per person, though Bellamy hoped they wouldn’t need them at all.

“Hey, you ready?” He asked, leaning over to kiss Clarke on her temple. She was talking with Harper, but stopped and nodded. 

“Okay everyone, I want to say a few words before we take off,” he began, raising his voice to a volume they all could hear. 

“Of course you do,” Octavia mocked, but there was no malice, or even mocking in her tone; she was all smiles.

“Shut up, O. Okay,” he clapped, turning around, and he caught the slight shake of his wife’s head and the soft smile on her lips next to him. “Today, we embark on a journey that will change life as we know it. One way or another, we will be making life better for everyone. It won’t be easy, it’ll take a lot of dedication, a lot of restraint, a lot of exhaustion. But it’s for a reason. A good reason. The best reason. We will stand up for those who cannot fight for themselves, for the innocent who have lived in fear for too long.” He looked at each of them, some with smirks, some with smiles, some with wide eyes. He hadn’t really _planned_ on giving a speech, but it didn’t feel right leaving without saying _something_.

“We’ve all worked really hard to give this the best chance of succeeding and no matter what happens, I’m proud of all of us. I’m proud to call you my family, new and old. Family - _love_ \- is not weakness, it’s strength. So let’s go show Ontari just how strong we are.”

He finished and looked at Clarke, who was wearing a look of pride on her face, her eyes focused on him. She shook her head again and grinned. “Always with the speeches,” she chuckled.

“Shut up,” he responded, suddenly embarrassed. She stepped closer and wrapped an arm around his waist, hugging his side. He watched as she broke eye contact, finally turning to face their family. 

“You heard the man, mount up, _hoz op_ ,” she commanded.

Everyone broke out in laughter and they mounted the horses. There wasn’t one for everyone, since they didn’t want to ride into Polis looking like they were about to attack, so they paired up where they could.

Bellamy swung his leg atop his and extended a hand down to Clarke, who mounted behind him, instantly wrapping her arms around his middle and he could feel her press her forehead to the spot between his shoulder blades.

Miller and Murphy helped Raven up, then Murphy mounted in front of her. Lincoln and O took another, then Luna and Miller each got their own. 

Maybe he should’ve let Luna give the speech, _she_ was the clan leader after all, and _she_ would be the one ultimately taking the Flame, but he’d gotten caught up in the moment. He just hoped it was enough to help push them forward into this. And he’d just really wanted them to understand how much he loved and cared for them. How important both the people they’d left behind and were riding next to him were to him. 

“Hyah!” he ordered his and Clarke’s horse and led the charge out the gate, looking back briefly to the people at the gate, waving and crying, and to the riders in formation behind him, staring determinedly ahead.

He felt Clarke squeeze his sides a little as he turned to face forward once again. They weren’t galloping, more of a canter. It’s not like they were expected at any specific time, aside from meeting up with Indra and Illian and their accompaniments in a couple days, and they didn’t want to tire the horses too quickly. They were the biggest, strongest ones Sonchahou had, since they’d be carrying two people and packs, though they’d made sure to pack the heaviest items with Luna and MIller since they were each riding alone. 

Bellamy’s and Clarke’s horse carried their medical supplies that Clarke had insisted on bringing and had spent _hours_ over the last week with Harper, trying to figure out what would be the best to have on hand. Murphy and Raven’s carried the radios and flares. Lincoln and O’s had weapons of all varieties. Luna’s held the food and other provisions like emergency shelter, and Miller’s had spare clothing since they weren’t sure exactly how long they’d be gone and the weapons that were too heavy for Lincoln and Octavia’s horse.

There were so many variables in regards to their timetable. Once they actually got Ontari removed from power, they still had to stay for the transferring of the Flame to Luna, and the shift of leadership of Polis and Azgeda from Ontari to Roan. Those kinds of politics didn’t happen overnight.

And there was the matter of the other clans of the coalition. Typically all clans were to be present for the Flame ceremony so that any disputes over the claim to the throne could be dealt with immediately. Otherwise the entire coalition would fall apart. 

It was a bit of powder keg, any piece at all that didn’t go according to plan would threaten all that they were trying to do.

They broke every three-ish hours like that, varying between a trot and a canter, making sure to give the horses plenty of rest and water before remounting and starting again. That was about how long Murphy was able to go without food as well, since he’d start griping so annoyingly that Bellamy was sure that at some point Raven was going to push him right off.

Finally about nightfall, they were a little more than halfway there and decided to break for the night. There was a cave that they used often on their travels to Polis, which was also the one that Clarke and Octavia had apparently used on their journey to talk with Roan. 

After deciding on watch shifts, though there wasn’t much to watch out for, they all settled in the cave. They’d get up just before dawn to finish their ride, getting into Polis about mid-afternoon. They were going to stay at the cabin where he and Clarke got married, since it was well enough out of the way, and was a good rally point for the three clans to gather together. Clarke would go off with Octavia again, sending a message to Roan that they were there. 

Ideally, they’d all be ready to storm the tower the next day. Roan was to already be up there - it was decided that if he arrived with Bellamy and Clarke and the others, Azgeda would label him an outright traitor. And a big part of preventing a war and violence was to make sure Azgeda was willing to follow Roan. 

Murphy and Lincoln got the fire going, and Luna put a pot on for tea while the rest of them got bigger shares of food out to distribute. 

Once they were all sated and the horses taken care of, they all started dropping down into their blankets. There wasn’t much to say aside from the occasional remark, or question, the next day seemingly weighing down their minds. 

He and Clarke laid down, his head on his pack and her head on his arm.

He felt her shift, her head twisting so she could look up at him. “You doing okay?” she asked.

Bellamy furrowed his eyebrows. “Yeah… why wouldn’t I be?” 

“Well, the last time you were in Polis…” she trailed off. “I know it still affects you.”

He breathed in sharply before exhaling it in a sigh. “Yeah,” he responded absently, his mind wandering to the various nightmares that his mind had been conjuring since the scourging. “I’ll be alright. It’s worth it,” he settled on. “What about you?”

Clarke remained quiet for a few moments. “It’s not my favorite place, that’s for sure,” she finally answered. “And if I’m honest, there’s a good sized part of me that wants to get out of this cave and run full speed back to the village.” He stayed quiet, sensing there was more that she wanted to say. “But I won’t. As much as I would rather spend my life on the beach working to forget all the atrocities that we went through, I need to face it. I need to stand up to the fear and refuse to let it control me.” Then she added, “I just want to be free. I want everyone to be free.”

He understood all of that, how trapped she’d felt since arriving on Earth. Traded, kidnapped, almost killed, assaulted, the list went on and on and on. He knew what she desired more than anything was peace. And he wanted so badly to be able to give it to her. But it wasn’t up to him, he couldn’t make that peace happen. He could stand with her while she went for it though, constantly reassuring her that she wasn’t in it alone. 

“Freedom for all, huh? You know, some girls just want a pretty dress, some shoes, maybe a necklace,” he teased. He was talking out of his ass - none of the women in his life fit that particular description.

She let out a bark of laughter and everyone around them shushed her. “Sorry!” she whisper-yelled to them. Bellamy buried his face in her hair to stifle his own fit. “Well that is definitely _not_ the kind of girl you married, sorry,” she retorted.

He hummed. “Good. I like this version better,” he said down to her. She looked up at him and it took some maneuvering, but he managed to get to a position where he could capture her lips, kissing her for a few minutes before a pinecone hit him in the forehead. But when he looked up to glare at whoever it was that threw it, everyone was fast asleep.

“Come on, we should get some rest,” she patted his chest lightly and settled back against it, and it didn’t take long for her breathing to even out. Bellamy tightened his arm around her, gave her hair one last lingering kiss, and joined her.

\------------------------

“Okay, let’s leave the horses here. O, Raven, Murphy, you stay with them, the rest of us will scout out the cabin,” Bellamy directed them.

Octavia nodded at him and they all dismounted and started getting their stuff ready to head out. They were a mile away from the cabin, which meant about two miles out from Polis. Ontari didn’t usually have scouts this far away, but they needed to be careful. They couldn’t be seen until they were ready for it. 

They needed to make sure the cabin was unoccupied too, or at the very least only inhabited by Indra or Illian. 

“I’m going to head to Roan’s, we need to let him know we’re here,” Clarke murmured to him.

“Okay. Take Miller.” 

Octavia was originally going to be the one to go with her, but he’d feel better if she stayed with the horses so she had an easy getaway if discovered. So far, she’d been true to her promise when they’d made the plans to go, she was staying far away from any possible action. He knew she hated it, but that it was necessary. He was glad they were together though, side by side like it was meant to be, even if they weren’t _actually_ side by side.

Miller walked up to stand beside them, backpack on his back and gun in his hand. Clarke took her bow off her shoulder to hold in her hands, though her arrows remained on her back. 

“Okay, Griffin let’s beat it if we want to be back before dark. I’ve got a walkie and both our flares in the pack,” Miller told her. Clarke nodded.

“I’ll signal if anything goes wrong, otherwise we’ll meet you at the cabin. Be careful, please?” she pleaded through her teeth. 

“You too.”

A quick kiss and he was watching MIller and Clarke disappear through the trees. He watched them a moment longer before turning back to the group.

He, Luna, and Lincoln swung their packs on their backs, and after checking their weapons and gear, he turned to Raven. “Okay, how does thing work again?” he asked, holding the walkie out to her. 

Raven walked over to him and took the radio out of his hands. “You twist the knob at the top, that turns it on,” she explained. A staticky noise came over the small box. She was being more patient than he expected since this was probably at least the third time she had explained it to him. She’d even demonstrated back home, with Murphy on the other one in a different cabin. “Okay, now when you want to talk, push this button on the side down, and _hold it down_ while you talk, then release it when you’re done saying whatever it is that you wanted to tell the other person.” 

Bellamy nodded. “Can I try it? To talk to Clarke and Miller? Just to make sure I have it down before we leave?” he asked. Once they knew the cabin was clear, he’d radio over to the three of them so they could bring the horses over.

“Go for it. She should have it on, but be quiet, they’re trying to be stealthy and if your voice is too loud in theirs, it’ll blow their position,” she warned. “Also, we’re all on the same channel, so we’ll all be able to hear each other. Even if you’re talking to the three of us, Clarke can still hear you, so make sure you keep your voice down then too.”

Bellamy took a deep breath. “Okay, here goes nothing.” He depressed the button on the side like she showed him and cleared his throat. “Clarke? Miller?” he asked tentatively. He let go of the button and for a moment there was no response.

“Bell? Everything okay?” he heard Clarke’s voice, a little muffled, but it was hers nonetheless. 

“Yeah, just making sure I know how to work this crazy thing before we set off for the cabin.”

Static.

“You’re such a nerd. Yeah, we hear you.”

He chuckled, along with the rest of them. He even caught Luna cracking a smile. He turned back to Raven. “Okay. I guess that settles that. See you all in a few hours, hopefully.”

Murphy rolled his eyes. “Not if you don’t get moving. Go on, we’re holding down the fort fine here.”

Bellamy nodded, then the three of them took off.

It took only a couple hours to reach the cabin with the pace they were maintaining. None of them were being particularly talkative, since there really wasn’t much to say and Luna and Lincoln tended to be on the quieter side anyway. And Bellamy had to force himself to focus on the task in front of him, instead of all the things they still had ahead of them. If he thought too far ahead, he’d drive himself crazy.

The cabin was empty when they arrived, and they staked it out for another couple of hours to make sure it stayed that way, and that no one else was expected. Indra and her Trikru warriors had joined them about an hour in. He radioed the information over to the three by the horses who had combined with Clarke and Miller after they got back from Roan’s. The message to the Prince had been delivered, and Clarke radioed to confirm with him that she watched him take it with her own eyes, so there was no chance of interception. He’d be meeting up with everyone at the cabin around midnight.

Illian still hadn’t showed yet, but Bellamy tried to not to worry - Trishanakru’s territory was farther than Floukru and Trikru, so it wasn’t unexpected that they would be the last to arrive. 

It was well past sundown by the time he spotted movement in the trees from their place in the cabin. He’d forgotten how small it was, and once everyone arrived, it was going to be a tight fit getting everyone in. They’d have to make sure to stay quiet or they’d alert any wanderers of their presence.

He saw Clarke dismount her horse, and he joined them to help get the horses tied up. 

“Hey,” he greeted her. She smiled, but it was stressed, not reaching her eyes. She was clearly worried about something. “Everything okay?”

“Yeah, just now that we’re here… it’s real. It’s happening. Just want to make sure we aren’t forgetting anything.”

“We’ve gone over and over and over it. We just have to trust that. And if we did forget something, we’ll deal with it then.”

She nodded, but he knew he hadn’t dissuaded her from her concern completely.

They weren’t planning on lighting a fire regardless, but there was definitely no need with all the bodies filling the cabin. Bellamy was right, it was a tight fit. Especially once Illian and his two warriors arrived an hour after Clarke’s group did. It was decided that Trikru and Trishanakru’s people would stay in a cave about a half mile away so that they’d spread out some. Floukru needed to stay at the cabin for Roan’s arrival.

Who, unfortunately, was late. Once they estimated midnight had passed by an hour, he could see Clarke’s already stressed face grow more and more agitated as the minutes passed. When Roan finally showed his face, he was sure Clarke would’ve killed him if it weren’t for the fact that he was irreplaceable in their plan. 

“You son of a bitch! Where have you been?” she demanded when he walked in through the door like nothing was wrong. Bellamy stood next to her, arms folded and his expression affixed in a scowl. He wasn’t exactly unaffected by Roan’s tardiness either. “Midnight means midnight jackass!”

Roan scoffed. “Take it down a few notches, Princess.” Clarke’s eyes widened and for a second Bellamy thought she might take a swing at him. “I had company over.”

To his surprise, Clarke actually _laughed_ at Roan’s explanation. “You... are late because… you were having _sex_?”

Roan shrugged. Murphy joined in Clarke’s laughter from across the room. Roan finally rolled his eyes and put his hands up in surrender. “Okay, okay, I’m sorry. Yes, I had plans prior to your summons, Clarke. I couldn’t exactly cancel on the lady! Trust me, _that_ would’ve been more suspicious.”

He could feel Clarke relaxing next to him. “Okay, fine. I’m sorry for calling you a jackass. It’s good to see you,” she relented. Bellamy couldn’t relax quite as much as she did - he didn’t have the relationship with Roan that she did, but he softened his posture a little anyway. “I’m just glad that it wasn’t Ontari that kept you. Is she suspicious at all?”

Roan shook his head. “Nope. I haven’t seen her in a few days, actually. Maybe even like a week? She’s been freezing me out for a while now, and it’s not like I actively seek out her company anyway. I don’t think she trusts me anymore… if she ever really did in the first place,” he told them, clearly annoyed at his treatment.

“Well, she won’t be able to freeze you out much longer. We move on Polis tomorrow morning, just before dawn.”

“You know that’s in like five hours, right?”

“Well I’m sorry you won’t be able to get your full eight, but the longer we’re here, the more we risk being seen before we’re ready. And in the morning, there will be less Azgeda up and about to interfere. We have to catch her off guard,” Bellamy interjected.

Roan hummed a little and wandered over to one of the windows. 

Clarke sighed. “I know this is hard - ”

“You have no idea _what_ this is like for me,” he said softly, all sarcasm gone from his tone.

“No, but _I_ do,” Bellamy said, glancing quickly at his sister. “I mean, O is far from Ontari - ” Octavia snorted. “But she’s still my sister, my blood. The thought of siding against her - it’s unfathomable. And I’m sorry you’re in this position.”

Roan turned around to face them, his expression stoic and masked. “I know you all hate Azgeda, and for good reason. I get that. But they are my clan, my family. As is Ontari. I know this is the right thing to do. And I’m still committed to it. But that doesn’t mean I’m excited about it.”

“That’s fair,” Clarke told him. “So will you be ready in the morning?” 

“Yeah, I’ll be there. I’ll make some excuse so she lets me in the Tower. I have a few loyal warriors already lined up for this. We’ll be ready. Titus as well.”

Bellamy nodded and stepped towards him, extending his arm out. Roan looked at it a second before clasping forearms with him. “ _Mochof_ ,” Bellamy thanked him earnestly, looking in Roan’s eyes so he knew he was serious.

Roan just nodded and glanced around the room one last time before slipping out the door into the night. 

“Well, fuck. I think I have to actually feel bad for him now,” Murphy said, breaking the silence.

Raven elbowed him. “I think that’s called _compassion_. Don’t worry, it’ll pass.”

“Whew, I was worried,” he joked, but it fell flat and they descended into the quiet again.

“You okay, Luna?” Clarke asked suddenly. He glanced in his leader’s direction. Luna had spent most of the journey in quiet, which wasn’t unusual, but Clarke had clearly caught the distressed look on Luna’s face.

Luna turned to them and cleared her throat. “We torture, kill, betray. We like to pretend we're more than that just to make ourselves feel better, but what if that’s a lie? What if the fight is all we are?"

“Because the difference is, we aren’t planning on doing any of those things. If we fight, it’s in the defence of others, not for our own pleasure. I can’t promise you we won’t have to fight. I can’t say with absolute certainty that we won’t be attacked. But it will not start with our hand,” Clarke told her firmly. Bellamy briefly noted that _technically_ they were planning on Roan doing one of those things, betraying his sister. But he also knew that Roan was doing what was best for _all_ of their people. That he wasn’t betraying for no reason or personal gain.

“Because of my blood, I was trained to kill. Trained to do all of those things,” Luna continued.

“It’s not your blood that defines you,” Raven started. “It’s your heart.”

“Leading the clans is your birthright, that’s true. But _how_ you lead is up to you. But you have to have that chance,” Clarke insisted. 

Luna nodded, looking a bit more resolute, more certain of what they were doing, but he knew she was still hesitant.

He stepped next to Clarke and placed a palm on her back, running it up to her neck. She shifted so she was tucked in closer to him.

“Let’s get some sleep everyone, we have to be up early. I’ll take first watch, Luna, I’ll wake you in an hour,” Bellamy said finally.

They all settled in various areas around the room as Bellamy found a spot to lean against the window. Clarke parked herself nearby, a spot next to her obvious for when it was his turn to get some rest. 

They all fell asleep rather quickly, and after a quick radio over to the other two clans to make sure things were in order with them - Raven had given one to Indra and shown her how to use it so they could keep in touch - he let himself get lost in the stars, which were bright in the cloudless sky. 

_What did you wish for?_

The memory came back to him, streaking through his thoughts like the star just had in the sky. He’d never told her. He was supposed to, promised he would when he got back from Polis a lifetime ago. Then it was going to be when she got back. Somehow he kept forgetting about it, his focus having been on other things lately. 

He hoped after this was all over, after peace and justice had been restored to Polis and the coalition, that they’d finally have their chance.

***

There was something different in the air that morning when Miller shook them all awake an hour before they were supposed to meet Roan at the tower. Clarke had expected everyone to feel tense, unsure, maybe even have second thoughts now that they were within minutes of actually enacting a plan that they’d been working on for months now. One way or another, it would be finished today.

But instead of tension, of worry, of nerve-racking panic, there was something different in the air.

Hope. 

It was _hope_.

Even Luna woke up ready to go, a lightness about her that hadn’t been there during their brief talk last night. Clarke had been worried she was getting ready to back out. To change her mind and the entire thing to fall apart when they’d barely gotten started. But she even _smiled_ during their half-hearted breakfast when Murphy made fun of her even crazier hair than usual. 

Today was the day they would show everyone that hope and love and peace were stronger than hate and violence and rage.

And everyone seemed to sense it.

They took the long way around Polis after bidding Octavia and Lincoln farewell back at the watch point near the entrance to Polis. There weren't even any unsettling feelings there either, just smiles and hugs and _see you laters_. 

Clarke was growing more confident with each step and it seemed she was not alone. Bellamy had on a grin more brilliant than she'd seen in a few days. Murphy even had a bounce in his step and Raven and Miller walked beside one another, whispering and laughing at something the other had said. She tried to tamper her excitement somewhat though, not so naive in thinking _everything_ would go according to plan. 

Even with as many eventualities as they could think of planned for, Clarke knew there were going to be obstacles at some point. 

She just didn’t think the first one would be before they even got _into_ the tower. 

“What do you mean, ‘no’?” Clarke inquired to the guard at the entrance, trying to keep the indignation out of her voice. 

They were not a small group, even though they’d left Murphy, Miller, and Raven at the treeline as another watch group. They wanted a few people close by to keep an eye on any armies or resistance happening on the ground while they were up in the throne room. Plus any more than three per clan was pushing it, and it could be seen as an intention of violence. Of course, Ontari might see it that way anyway.

So there were nine of them in total trying to get up the tower since Trikru and Trishanakru were with them too. When Luna had stepped forward, requesting the guard notify Ontari that three clans of her coalition’s ambassadors and leaders were there seeking an audience with their Heda, the guard had not even considered it. He’d spat out no before Luna had even finished speaking.

If Ontari or this guard continued to refuse them, they were dead in the water.

“ _Heda_ Ontari _doesn’t need to speak with the weakest of her coalition. Nothing that you have to say would be of any interest to her._ ”

Luna smiled conspiratorially and stepped closer. “ _Regardless of whether you believe that or not, it is not up to you. It’s not even up to Heda. Coalition rules dictate that if three or more clans request an audience, Heda cannot refuse. She is required by law to see to us._ ”

The guard glared at Luna and then slowly looked around to each of them. Clarke could see the man’s jaw working over with tension.

Luna didn’t back down - she even stepped forward another step, forcing the guard to back up a bit. He finally acquiesced and turned to one of the other guards near the elevator. 

“ _Go tell Heda that Floukru, Trikru, and Trishanakru ambassadors are here for her. I will send them up in ten minutes._ ” The other guard nodded and entered the elevator.

Clarke and Bellamy had floated near the back, not wanting to cause any more waves with the fact that it was _them_ there. She knew Ontari was probably out for their blood, and would surely be incensed to see they’d returned. Clarke didn’t want her forewarned of their arrival until they were ready for it.

Ten minutes passed and the guard that had been sent up still hadn’t returned with any further instructions from Ontari, so they were ushered onto the elevator. It was a tight fit, but they all got on okay. Luna put a gentle arm around Clarke and ushered her and Bellamy to the front once the doors had closed. 

“This is your show, you take point. I’ll be right behind you backing you up.”

Clarke’s heart started pounding so hard she was nervous it would explode before they finally got there. The confidence from even just minutes ago started giving way to panic. _This is it_. 

Her hand was suddenly not empty anymore, as she felt Bellamy’s warm, reassuring fingers intertwining with her own. She startled, and looked up at him. His smile was one of pride, of determination, of love. It helped to ground her, in a way only he could. She wasn’t alone, hadn’t been alone this whole time. Clarke knew that, had long ago embraced that fact, but them standing side by side, ready to take on the world together, it was everything. 

Clarke steeled her shoulders to the doors, held her head high, and prepared for them to open. 

_This is it_ , she thought again. But instead of panic, she could feel her unyielding resolve rising up, blossoming and blooming inside to something that would not be shaken. 

No matter how this turned out, how Ontari responded, they tried their absolute best.

The elevator lurched to a stop and Clarke prepared herself for the doors to open, pushing down the prickling deja feeling creeping up her spine. Another time, not that long ago when she was forced into this very room, scared out of her mind. Terror was the least of her emotions now. 

Sure, there was the niggling doubt and fear that this wouldn’t go the way they intended, but either way, it was happening, and they’d roll with whatever was thrown at them. But terror wasn’t only not an option, but it wasn’t even a consideration.

Ontari should be the one filled with fear. Because one way or another, her reign of violence, of hatred, of horror, was going to end today.

She was where Clarke expected her to be - sat on her throne with an expression of contempt on her face when she noticed Clarke and Bellamy leading the group. Her gaze flickered around to each one of the nine. If she suspected the real reason for their presence, she didn’t show it.

Roan stood off to one side of her, avoiding locking eyes with any of them, his attention focused towards his sister, watching her closely. Which was fine, he shouldn’t be seen as a co-conspirator. Not yet anyway. Five other guards were stationed randomly around the room, and Titus stood to Ontari’s other side.

For a long few moments, none of them spoke, sizing each other up, trying to figure out how exactly this was going to go. Clarke thought about this moment literally countless times, what she would say when she finally got Ontari face to face again. On Clarke’s terms this time instead of the Commander’s. 

Ontari was not the one with the power here this time.

“ _I wondered when I might see you two again,_ ” Ontari sneered. “ _Didn’t get enough of me last time?_ "

Clarke smiled and stepped forward a few steps, Bellamy right next to her. “ _I’ve been waiting for this too,_ Ontari,” she responded, in Trig, and Clarke relished for half a second in the surprise that Clarke spoke their native language that caused Ontari’s demeanor to falter for a brief moment.

“That’s Heda to you, girl,” she said, switching to English. When Clarke didn’t say anything to that, Ontari’s tone took on an undercut of frustration, annoyance that she couldn’t figure out what it was the three clans she hated most wanted from her. She stood. “I see you have brought Luna, my old friend.”

Luna stepped to Clarke’s other side. “I’m not sure friend is the correct term, Ontari.”

Ontari hummed. “Adversary, maybe,” she said rhetorically. “Although, unfortunately, not a worthy one,” she insulted Luna. “I am done with your threats and ultimatums, so whatever it is you are here to request, the answer is no. I don’t care how many clans are backing you up.”

“You haven’t even heard what it is,” Clarke pointed out.

Ontari narrowed her eyes at her. “I don’t need to, _natrona_ ,” she spat, calling Clarke a traitor like she was the one in the wrong. “Nothing Trikru, Floukru, or Trishanakru have to say is worth my time. I don’t care what color your blood is Luna. _Now if you’d all like to keep your heads_ \- ” she waved towards the door, clearly done with the conversation.

“We aren’t leaving,” Bellamy said firmly.

“That isn’t up to you. I am Heda here. As such, you will do as I say, or there will be punishment. Or did you hit your head and forget what happened the last time you disobeyed me? I would be _happy_ to remind you. _I am Heda_ ,” she repeated, stepping closer to him, her voice dripping with some combination of disdain and excitement.

It made Clarke’s stomach churn with the idea that Ontari was so hot under the collar to torture him again. Her arm tensed automatically and he responded in kind, holding her where she was, probably because he sensed that she might just abandon her plan of peaceful resolution. 

“Not for long,” Clarke responded, infusing as much calm as she could in her voice. 

Clarke wasn’t sure _how_ exactly she expected Ontari to respond. Fury, probably, a flicker of fear, hopefully, or shock, possibly. But instead, Ontari _laughed_. And not just a small chuckle, but a full on grin spread wide and doubled over laughter.

Clarke remained impassive, bored of her hysterics. She and Bellamy exchanged a glance and she could see him feeling the same way.

“Ontari.”

Ontari snapped out of her laughter and took a few long strides, stopping just in front of Clarke. Clarke stood tall, her posture unwavering and she felt Bellamy shift so he was a few inches closer. She could feel his nerves radiating off him in waves. Anyone else looked at him and they would see a warrior, strong and unyielding, courageous. Which, would be true, absolutely. But it wasn’t all he was feeling, and Clarke knew him too well to think otherwise.

“You think you’ll be able to kill me, Clarke kom _Floukru,_?” Ontari asked, voice low. “I was _trained to kill_.” Clarke could tell she was trying to be menacing, but it fell flat. She didn’t doubt that Ontari could kill her, Clarke wasn’t so naive to think she’d ever be able to take Ontari in a fight, but she just didn’t think she actually _would_.

That wasn’t why they were there. They weren’t there to fight. And it was time to let Ontari in on the plans. 

So Clarke released Bellamy’s hand and stepped forward, closing the gap. 

“I’m not going to kill you Ontari. But you _are_ going to step down. You are going to give up the Flame to Luna, and abdicate your role as Commander. _Yu gonplei ste odon_.”

“And why on _Earth_ would I do a thing like that?” She whooshed her cloak away, practically stomping her way back to her throne. “I have all of Azgeda at my beckon call. My guards here will seize you and kill at my command. My brother will strike swiftly at my behest. You have no grounds to - ”

“Sorry, sister,” Roan sounded. He was quiet, but commanding, looking straight at Ontari. “Azgeda is now under my command. Guards - ” he ordered the men around the room, who instantly looked to Roan, now the _King_ of Azgeda. “Seize her.”

Ontari’s eyes went wide in surprise she was no longer able to hide. She took a few steps back from the wall that was quickly closing in on her. “Guards - ” she tried to command, but her voice strained. “Kill them. _All_ of them. Except Clarke, Bellamy, and Luna. I will deal with them myself.”

The guards still advanced on Ontari however, ignoring that she’d ever even said anything.

“Gu - guards!” Ontari tried again, to no avail. They finally reached her, grabbing her arms and holding firm despite her struggle as she roared.

“It’s over, Ontari. Fear and violence will not lead this coalition any longer. If you surrender the Flame willingly and without a fight, you can live out your days in the dungeon. Your freedom will be gone, but you’ll remain alive.”

Ontari spat at the ground towards Clarke’s feet. Clarke ignored it.

“Let me be clear.” Clarke stepped forward. “This is not a request. Surrender the Flame. Let the cycle of violence _end_ ,” she pleaded. 

“If it’s a war you want - ”

“Did you not just hear me? A war is _not_ what we want! Roan will lead your clan, they will remain in control of the Polis. Luna will lead the coalition from her Rig and Sonchahou. This is what is going to happen, whether you like it or not.” Clarke took a deep breath. “The only question is whether you will forfeit the Flame willingly.”

“Ontari, it’s over. Let it be over,” Bellamy said, stepping up next to her and folding his arms across his chest. “There is nothing more for you to do. Take the deal. Leave with your life, it’s more than you deserve.”

Ontari scoffed. “ _I’d rather die than bow to ocean trash._ ” And then she turned to Roan, who was still waiting stoically off to the side. “ _You’re a disgrace to the Azgeda name, brother._ ”

Clarke closed her eyes and willed herself to remain in control. Some part of her really did hope that Ontari would see reason, however unlikely that outcome actually was. That she’d see she was outnumbered and surrender peacefully. 

“ _I will lay waste to all three of your clans. My army will -_ ” she began before Roan interrupted.

“It’s my army now, Ontari. Most of your guards are under my orders already, and a notice went out this morning that you are no longer Commander and that Luna kom Floukru will be taking the Flame. As Clarke said, Polis will remain Azgeda territory. I expect some resistance, sure, but you know I’m well equipped to handle it.”

Ontari’s eyes got even wider - comically so. She was gaping, and looked like a feral animal that had been cornered. 

“Do as they suggest, sister. Relinquish gracefully.”

“ _I will slit every throat -_ ”

“Enough,” Luna said, authoritatively, striding forward. “I once ran from the Conclave because I abhor violence in every form. Love is not weakness, but we were taught the opposite. The Flamekeepers harnessed our rage and taught us it was nobility. So trust me when I tell you, if I found peace – you can. I allowed you to take control of the coalition and ignored the consequences of that decision for too long.”

“ _Coward_ ,” Ontari spat.

“But no longer. These are my people, all of them. This is my _birthright_. And it is about high time I accept that. ”

Clarke had no idea where she was headed with this, if she was still trying to get Ontari to take the peaceful way or if she was going to break her neck. Luna had one of those faces where you just didn’t know what was about to happen. She exchanged a look with Bellamy, which told her he was confused as she was.

Ontari stopped fighting her restraints suddenly, standing tall and plastering a sly smile on her face. “You want to take ownership of your birthright, hmm? You think if the Flame had a choice, it would choose _you_?”

Clarke was still not completely sure how it worked, even when Bellamy tried explaining it to her. If they were on the Ark, she’d think it was some kind of tech, but there was nothing like that on the ground and Bellamy nor anyone else she talked to had even _seen_ the Flame - not even Luna.

“I did not flee the Conclave because I was afraid I would lose,” Luna responded simply and Clarke had the fleeting thought that Luna exuded more power and intimidation than Ontari had ever pretended to have. “I fled because I knew I would win.”

Ontari looked furious again. “Then I see only one possible solution to this matter.”

Bellamy spoke up before she could continue. “No. There is no other alternative, Ontari. This is not a negotiation.” Luna held up a hand though, and waited. Clarke felt frozen, like her brain was having a hard time catching up to what was happening.

“One final Conclave. You and me. The coalition belongs to the victor,” Ontari offered, looking only at Luna. “And when I win and retain my reign, everyone in this room will die by my hand. If you do not agree, I will make sure every single soul still loyal to me wipes out as many of you as possible, regardless if I am locked up or not,” she added defiantly. “I will send them after you and every member of your clan I can. You will never know a moment not spent in fear again.”

It was like someone had smacked Clarke across the face. She blinked rapidly, her mouth opening and closing like a fish. “N - no! Ontari, this not a - Luna you can’t possibly - ” she stuttered. She felt Bellamy tense up next to her. 

“I accept.” Luna said with finality. Like she hadn’t just gambled with everyone in this room’s lives.

Bellamy left Clarke’s side and went up to Luna. “You can’t do this. We should stick with the original plan. We will all die if you lose.”

Luna put a hand on his shoulder. “I won’t lose, old friend.”

“You can’t possibly know that,” Clarke insisted, harshly. “Besides, whatever happened to ending the cycle without violence? You were the one who told _me_ that you refused to fight.”

Luna turned to her, a little sadly. “It takes time to change hearts and minds. There’s a good chance an actual war will break out amongst the clans if we try to take the Flame outright. Especially if she doesn’t willingly surrender it, which she will never do. When I win, they will follow the Flame without resistance. This loses the least amount of lives,” she explained. “This is how we prevent the war.”

Clarke couldn’t deny that Luna had a point.

“What do you think?” she asked Bellamy.

He hesitated. “I think... I hate it, but Luna is right. Even those who follow Ontari will accept the outcome of this. We did the best we could, to prevent the least loss of life as possible. If Luna is willing to fight, then this is the best plan.”

Clarke nodded. “And what if she loses? Bellamy we’ll - ”

“She won’t.”

He said with such authority, like there was legitimately no way that she would lose. As if his will was strong enough to prevent any other outcome other than Luna winning the Conclave. 

“Luna, if you do this,” he continued turning to the woman, who was standing nearby, letting them have their conversation. “You will win. There isn’t another option.”

Luna nodded and then turned to Ontari. “You have your Conclave. We commence in three days' time.” 

Ontari had a troublesome look on her face, and Clarke’s stomach turned over. She had never seen Luna fight, obviously, but supposedly she was very skilled, or Ontari wouldn’t have been scared of her this whole time. 

Clarke desperately hoped they weren’t making a mistake.

“Remand Ontari to her quarters,” Roan commanded the guards. But when they tried to force her out the door, she violently shook them off.

“ _How generous of you, traitor,_ ” she sarcastically spat towards him. “ _But I am still Heda and I will not allow your traitorous paws on me, unless you wish for death,_ ” she said, shooting deadly looks to her guards.

Roan’s eyes narrowed towards her. “Go with her, ensure she does not leave until the Conclave begins in the arena.” The guards nodded their heads and started escorting Ontari towards the elevator. 

Ontari zeroed in on Clarke and Bellamy. “ _Enjoy your last few days of life. Soon, you both will be at my mercy. And I assure you, I won’t have any._ ”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ONE FINAL CONCLAVE
> 
> Winner takes all.
> 
> Any guesses how it will go? 😉
> 
> This was an extra long one because when I wrote it originally, I had the chapter split between 30 and 31 at a different part, but I adjusted it some when editting it. I hope it worked okay and wasn't too long to read.
> 
> Thank you everyone! SO much love to all of you! ❤ Next update will be around Friday
> 
> Here's my [tumblr](http://dayo488.tumblr.com/) if you want to come say hi!


	31. Chapter 31

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The Conclave! Whew! It was a crazy ride getting here and it isn't over yet! 
> 
> Chapter starts off a little slower because it was originally the middle of the chapter, but I decided to move the original first chunk of this one to 30 instead, so we're picking up in the middle of the scene after Ontari makes her threat in the throne room. I'm sorry if it's a little confusing, hopefully it reads okay anyway.
> 
> CHAPTER WARNING: Violence. Lots of violence, lots of blood.

Clarke felt Bellamy step closer and place a shaky hand on her back under her bow and quiver and they watched as the elevator doors closed behind Ontari.

Clarke saw Indra and Illian standing and discussing something quietly off to the side, probably regretting ever backing them up in the first place. They’d been assured that this was going to remain as peaceful as possible, and while no actual violence had occurred, their lives were now in danger. She walked up to the two of them, while Bellamy spoke with Luna and Roan. 

“I know this isn’t what you signed up for, I’m sorry this got out of hand and now your lives are at risk.”

“If I’m honest, Clarke, I never expected any less. Actually, I expected _more_ resistance,” Indra told her. “You’re lucky they both agreed to the Conclave so readily.”

“Indra is correct,” Illian agreed. 

“Trikru stands at the ready in case Ontari wins.”

“As does Trishanakru.”

Clarke nodded. “Okay.” Sighing, she walked over the other three. She noticed Titus off in the other corner, knelt down by some candles.

“Indra and Illian alright?” Bellamy asked when she approached them.

“Yeah. I think. They said their clans' support is still with us.”

“They are loyal, and I am skilled. I will not lose, Clarke,” Luna said again. 

“You’d better not,” she mumbled. It sounded harsher than she meant, but her brain was still trying to play catch up with what had just happened. And Clarke had come to care for Luna, both as a leader and a friend and she didn’t want to see her lose her life. 

“Roan has offered his house for us to wait in. He has guards posted out front in case of resistance from supporters of Ontari. Luna can use the arena to practice in until it’s time for everyone to gather.” Luna nodded. “Come on, we have to tell the others what is going on. And Octavia and Lincoln should go and warn Trikru and Trishanakru.”

Clarke nodded and picked up her radio. “Okay, guys. We have some things to discuss. Everyone move carefully towards Roan’s house. Go the long way around and avoid the city center. Stay away from as many Azgeda as you can.”

The crackle of radio was all she heard for a moment before Murphy’s voice sounded. “Are you all okay?”

Clarke sighed and closed her eyes and tried to figure out a way not to lie. Were they okay? Not really. It was never going to be easy, she knew that. She was prepared to lay her life down for these people if it came to it. But she didn’t want Bellamy, Luna, nor the two clans who had come to back them up to have to as well. If Luna failed, they’d all be killed. And she doubted Onari would stop with just the nine of them in the room. She’d probably decimate Floukru entirely.

“We’re alive,” she settled on as a response, because it was the best answer she had to give Murphy for now.

***

They could do this. Bellamy had seen Luna fight - when she came back from training, before she refused to participate in the Conclave. She was graceful, and fast, in her movements. No one could beat her in their sparring, though he knew those were _far_ from fights to the death.

And Ontari… she was ruthless and fought dirty. She wouldn’t hold back. And she had all the knowledge of the Commanders she’d able to draw from.

It would not be an easy or a bloodless fight.

His head was spinning with the possibilities, the outcomes. He was confident that Luna could win. She wouldn’t have put her clan and other clans in danger if she thought she’d lose. But it wasn’t without risk and one of those risks was Clarke’s death. His families’ deaths. And that was enough to have him thinking of contingencies should Luna fail. He’d have to figure out a way to keep them all safe.

“What’s going on in that head of yours?” Clarke asked, coming to walk beside him as they headed to Roan’s. 

“Trying to figure out a way that we don’t all die.”

“Well that’s easy,” she said, a hint of a smile on her face. “Luna wins,” she laughed, a little dryly. Then she huffed. “I know, I’m trying to think of the same, We’ll figure it out,” she told him, dropping the attempt at levity. “Can’t wait for the day that we get to retire that damn phrase.”

“Me too,” he agreed and then he added, firmly, “we will.”

She hummed and tipped her head on his shoulder briefly. “At least Octavia and the baby will be safe. And our family back in the village. I’m glad we had the plan of alerting the clans.”

He agreed. At least they would be far away when this happened. As long as O stuck with the plan of staying with Lincoln's family in Trikru until this was all over. If the worst happened, she’d be far away.

Murphy, Miller, and Raven were already waiting in Roan’s house when they got there, Miller shifting nervously foot to foot from his position as watch by the window in the sitting area, Raven sitting with elbows on her knees and her head hung on one of the couches, and Murphy fidgeting nervously with a knife by the fireplace.

“What the hell happened?” he demanded when he caught sight of Bellamy, Clarke and Roan, who had been leading the group.

Clarke sighed next to him. “It’s…” he saw her glance at Luna before continuing, “not terrible news. But it also didn’t go exactly according to plan.” 

“Well of course it didn’t. It was never going to,” Raven commented, like she’d been expecting this. “But it looks like at least everyone has their heads so…”

“For now,” Clarke mumbled. “Where’s O and Lincoln?”

“They were farther, so it’ll take some more time to get here. Do we need to rally the forces?” Miller asked, getting straight to the point.

“We’ll need them to go warn the clans, yes. But we aren’t preparing for battle quite yet.”

“Except for me. Excuse me,” Luna said quietly. “Roan,” she asked, nodding towards the door.

“Yeah, I’m coming,” he answered. He turned to Bellamy and Clarke. “I’m going to go help her train, you guys cool here? There will be guards out front if you need anything and I know you all can look after yourselves. Any news, come get me immediately.”

“Thanks Roan,” Clarke responded.

“Someone say something!” Murphy said, clearly frustrated.

“Hey, it’s going to be okay. Obstacles are to be expected. We’ll all be fine.”

Octavia and Lincoln walked in then, their faces wore matching expressions of determination.

“So how bad is it?” she asked, one eyebrow cocked.

“Depends,” Bellamy sighed and he and Clarke moved to the fireplace so they could address the whole room. 

“Okay,” he began. “So Ontari resisted, which we figured she would do. As much as we all hoped she’d roll over and surrender willingly, I don’t think any of us really expected her to do that. However, something we did _not_ see coming…”

“Ontari proposed a Conclave. Between her and Luna,” Clarke finished.

“Which she accepted, right?” Murphy asked, scoffing a little. “Which is why she’s over training with Roan.” He threw his head back.

“I thought Luna, out of all of us, refused to fight?” Raven asked. 

“Yeah, well, apparently our little pep talk to her last night really did wonders,” Clarke explained.

“Well, either way, who cares? Ontari gets to die, which she deserves anyway,” Murphy pointed out.

“But if Luna loses, if Ontari kills _her_ , we all die too,” Bellamy told them. “Along with the Trikru and Trishanakru warriors here with us. And to be honest, I can’t see Ontari letting the Rig or Sonchahou go without punishment either.”

The room went silent.

“Look, Luna has trained her whole life for this,” Clarke told them. “And yes, Ontari is furious and vengeful, and that gives her power. But Luna has something more on her side.”

“So help me if you say she’s going to beat Ontari with the power of love, Clarke…” Murphy interjected.

“Purpose, is what I was going to say. She has _purpose_. And yes, Murphy, love. She has Derrick she’s fighting for, and Adria. And all of us. She has a clan and the coalition to fight for. As ironic as it is, she’s fighting for peace. To restore justice and a better way of living to the clans. And _that_ ,” Clarke emphasized, “has more strength, and power, and efficacy than what Ontari is fighting for. Ontari is selfish and fights for none other than herself, to keep herself in charge. Luna is fighting to protect her family, and that will always be victorious.”

“And you say I’m the one with the speeches,” Bellamy teased softly, eliciting a chuckle and a shake of the head from his wife. He couldn’t be more proud of her if he tried.

“You really do need a cape,” Miller said with a cocky smile from across the room. “Wait until Jasper hears about this.”

Clarke rolled her eyes and it seemed to break a little bit of the built up tension. “Okay, okay, let’s not get this started, _again_. O, Lincoln, you need to go notify the clans what’s going on. The Conclave is in three days so you might not make it back in time. It’s probably best you just stay in Trikru territory and ride it out.”

“Not a chance. We need to be in at least radio distance so we know how it goes.”

Bellamy threw his head back. “O…”

“Raven, how far will the signal go?” Clarke asked. “The cave we stayed in?”

Raven thought for a few moments before nodding. “Should.”

Clarke exchanged a hesitant glance at Bellamy. “O does have a point. If Luna… the clans will need to know the outcome as soon as possible. They’ll be far away still, out of any danger.”

Bellamy chewed it over. He knew Clarke was with him, that she would rather they be in Trikru too, but this really was the best idea. “Fine. Any _hint_ of danger, and I swear to - ”

“We’ll be out of there,” Lincoln promised.

The two of them left immediately after that, promising to radio in after making the rounds to the three clans and they’d reached the cave. It probably wouldn’t be until just as the Conclave was starting, so he spent an extra few minutes embracing his sister. 

He refused to think of it as the last time though.

Bellamy turned to the other three. “There’s going to be unrest for the time we’re here. Any Ontari loyalists will be looking to avenge her house arrest and the mutiny. So we need watches at all times and we need to be on guard. It’s going to be a long three days.”

Clarke wrapped an arm around his waist and he responded with an arm around her shoulders, holding her to him.

At least they were all in it together.

\------------------------

And a long three days it was. Octavia and Lincoln went out of radio range quickly, riding their horses as quickly as they were. It wasn’t surprising to Bellamy, he’d expected it. Still, it unnerved him to not be able to reach her.

Which was a little ridiculous to him if he was being honest. They’d never had walkies before, were constantly out of range of each other and while he was bothered by it, worried about her, it never felt so off as it did now.

He supposed it could have something to do with the fact that the stakes had never been higher. 

He, Indra, and Roan spent most of their days training with Luna in the sparring arena. She was a little rusty, but she still moved how Bellamy remembered. Her fighting style had always reminded him more of dancing, like her moves were fluid and her muscles moved without conscious thought. It would serve her well in the fight against Ontari the next day, as Ontari always just went for blunt motions and ruthlessness and there wasn’t a lot of finesse or flexibility in her combat. Roan was helpful in that regard, since his fighting style was a lot like his sister’s.

It would certainly be a fight to remember. One that would change the course of the entire human race.

Bellamy’s head spun when he thought of it like that however, so he tried to remain focused on the task at hand.

Miller and Clarke came down with them every once in a while, though they weren’t going to be quite as a match for Luna so they mostly stayed and helped where they could, sparring with each other to keep themselves sharp. Murphy even joined in with them to give them pointers on Grounder tactics. He wasn’t one of the most skilled fighters, but his mind was sharper than almost anyone Bellamy had ever known so even if his body wasn’t skilled with fighting, his ability to recall what he’d learned over the years was an asset in helping them train.

Roan had guards posted wherever they went. They had a few close calls with a few Azgeda warriors who were furious at Floukru’s presence, and the first day or so were attacked going to and from the Tower. Roan ended up making a speech from the Tower regarding what was going on and that as their King, any dissension or resistance until the Conclave had been completed would be met with the maximum consequences.

After that, they were mostly left alone, dirty looks and harsh words notwithstanding.

“How’d it go today?” Clarke asked, once Bellamy and Roan got back to Roans’ house. It was a tight fit, but they had insisted on remaining together and it was better than the small cabin. They made it work fine. Bellamy collapsed on the couch next to her. 

Clarke had spent most of that afternoon with Illian, Murphy, Raven, and Titus in the Holy Space. Titus was explaining the history of the Grounders and the Flame and the original Commander, Bekka Pramheda.

She wanted to make sure she understood the logistics of the Flame and what it was that was going to happen once Luna won. Titus was the only Flamekeeper, which was keeping him alive every time he did something that toed the line of disobedience to Ontari, such as marrying Clarke and Bellamy. And he had already said he would accompany Luna to the Rig to settle her in and train another Flamekeeper there to remain with her, as he couldn’t leave the current novitiate class in the midst of their training (most were only 10,11) or the Temple where all their histories are stored..

Roan promised that he would remain safe and the Temple sacred once Luna took over the Flame and he officially became in charge of Polis.

“Fine. She’s ready. I can’t tell you how many times one of my ribs almost cracked. Definitely at least bruised though,” Bellamy murmured, closing his eyes and resting it on the back of the couch, just relieved he got to rest for a moment with her. Then predictably he felt her hands next at the hem of his shirt, gently lifting to take a look. Her fingers gently played along the edges and she hummed a bit.

“Yeah, you’re okay. I wish I had some ice though, or even some snow,” she remarked. He lifted his head and opened his eyes just enough to look at his ribs himself, a dark purple bruise already forming on his left side where he’d caught an elbow from Luna. 

Bellamy groaned and tipped his head back again. “I’m fine. Really. It’ll match my damn jaw,” he told her, clearing his throat a little. “Got some water though?”

Clarke gave him a glass off the table in front of them that was probably hers. “I’m glad you and Roan are helping her get ready, but I can’t say I’ll miss her using my husband as a punching bag.”

He chuckled. “I’m not going to miss it either. I’d almost forgotten what she was like when she got into that headspace.”

Clarke fidgeted with her pants a little, a nervous gesture he hadn’t seen in a while. He set his hand on top of hers to still the motion.

“What’s going on?”

She gave him a small smile. “Just, nervous. I’m glad to hear that Luna is doing well. Ontari, however, killed three people today.”

Bellamy sighed. “Shit. I’m surprised that anyone still wants to train with her.”

“You’d be surprised what people will do as blind loyalty,” she said absently, rubbing her temples with her fingers.

After a heavy debate the day before, it was decided that Ontari would be allowed a few hours of training, during Luna’s breaks. Luna ended up being the deciding factor when he and Clarke had been ready to shut down Ontari’s request, insisting that she wanted no room for argument when she won. Supporters of her would be allowed to volunteer. If Ontari was defeated, resistance may rise up if it was suggested that they hadn’t treated the Conclave with fairness and she wanted as smooth of transition as possible in order to preserve as much human life as they could.

They hadn’t really counted on Ontari killing the people who volunteered for her. She really was loyal to no one except herself, her selfishness knowing no bounds.

“No kidding. I’m exhausted,” Roan said, coming out of his room, fresh clothes on. Bellamy hadn’t bothered changing yet, coming inside and heading straight for the couch and Clarke instead. “Go get cleaned up before dinner Blake, you smell.”

“Shut up, Roan,” Clarke shot to him.

“No, he’s right,” Bellamy sighed, immediately regretting it when Roan’s face turned smug. “I should clean up. See you in a few,” Bellamy told her, groaning as he rose, and leaned over to give Clarke a kiss to her hair.

“Yeah, I take it back, you do stink,” she laughed.

“Oh I do?” he asked, smirking and moving to pull her up and into his arms.

“Ugh, stop, go get changed!” she exclaimed, pushing him away, but he held firm. “Bellamy!”

“I almost forgot how sickening you two are,” Roan remarked, rolling his eyes as Clarke managed to wiggle out of Bellamy’s grasp. Bellamy just shoved at him as he walked to the back for some clothes before going around back to the showerhouse. “How’d it go with Titus?” he could hear Roan ask her as he went to gather his stuff. 

He heard Clarke sigh. “Fine. He’s almost as big of a history nerd as my husband,” she joked.

“I heard that!”

“You were meant to!” she laughed. Then addressing Roan again, “Raven was especially interested once Titus started to explain what the Flame actually is. I think it might actually be tech - like an AI or something.”

That surprised Bellamy, though it probably shouldn’t’ve. He knew Bekka was what they called a scientist in Old Earth - he’d read some about them in some of the books he’d gathered over the years. Not much made sense, as tech often didn’t to him, but it surprised him that the Flame they all were taught to worship and follow was actually technology and not some strange magic spirit after all.

“Weird. Our mother had me exiled for a while when I was younger, so I actually wasn’t even present for Ontari’s Ascension. She’s the one who allowed me back into Azgeda.”

Bellamy heard the room go silent for a moment and he could sense that particular silence heavy with guilt. 

“So anyway,” Clarke continued, not addressing it, not that Roan would’ve wanted her to.

“Okay, I’m off. I’ll see you guys at dinner,” he told them as he left. 

Clarke smiled at him. “See you.”

***

Clarke was a ball of energy, bouncing on the balls of her feet as they gathered around the sparring arena. Roan was seated up high, perched in the thrones reserved for the leaders of whichever clans were present to witness the Conclave. Two giant bowls on pillars held roaring fires in each and were placed on either end of the platform. Titus had explained to her the day previously that Conclaves were usually held throughout the city, but since this was one on one, and not a normal Conclave, that the arena would suffice.

She was pretty sure she was driving everyone around them crazy, asking question after question, double and triple checking everything was set. Bellamy eventually put a hand in hers and it helped to settle her in the way only he could. 

About an hour before dawn, Octavia had radioed, informing them that they’d made it to Trikru and Trishanakru, as well as Floukru, and they’d all been apprised of the situation and were waiting for news of the outcome. There had even been a Louwada Kliron representative in Trikru’s territory for an unrelated matter, so they were given the information as well.

Harper, Monty, Jasper, and Aurora had sent their best, optimism abounding as they were often to do. Aurora promised to send word to Derrick and the Rig as well. Clarke appreciated each and every one of them and missed them fiercely, even though it had been barely a week since leaving Sonchahou. 

Each and every member of their family brought something only they could to their family, and when they weren’t together, it would always feel like something was missing.

Now O and Lincoln were waiting at the cave, ready to take off as soon as Raven, who was in charge of dispersing the information, let them know what was happening. She could hear the anxiety and longing in Octavia’s tone, and Clarke knew she was missing having the opportunity to witness this.

Indra and Illian were on either side of Roan and Bellamy - as Floukru’s representative - sat on Indra’s other side, since Luna would be in the arena. Clarke stood at the front of the crowd, with Miller, Murphy, and Raven.

“She’s going to be fine. You should've seen her yesterday. She’s ready,” Miller leaned over to tell her, putting a hand on her shoulder.

“Mmhmm,” Clarke agreed, eyes focused on the empty circle where two women were about to fight to the death, one for hatred, one for love. She glanced up at Bellamy, who sat with his head held high, his expression a mask - all business. His jaw still showed slight bruising, a result of all the sparring he’d done the past few days.

He caught her eye though and nodded his head, a silent reassurance. 

Ontari was led out by guards then, to the center of the circle and Luna walked out, stopping a few yards from her. The two faced Roan, who stood and held up a hand. Titus joined him at his side and the crowd quieted in anticipation.

“ _Today, we finish a Conclave that started after the death of Heda Lexa kom Trikru. A battle to the death, to decide who will lead our Coalition. Once only one remains, they will be declared the victor and all will fall in line behind her. The leaders from all clans have already been sent for, as is our tradition after a Conclave, to either newly confirm or reconfirm the Heda,_ ” Roan told them all. He caught Clarke’s gaze only briefly before yielding to Titus. 

“ _We honor those who fall by the sword, but follow the One who wields it best._ ” Titus turned to the women in the middle. “ _Our champions - Heda Ontari kom Azgedakru and Luna kom Floukru. Choose your weapons,_ ” he instructed, gesturing towards the trove of weapons laid out. Each champion was allowed two weapons with which to start off with. Once the Conclave started, if they gained one from their competitor, they could use that too.

The guards released Ontari and she strode over first, claiming two corvo swords. She whipped them around and returned to her position. Luna then walked over, choosing what looked like a trident, with the middle spoke elongated and a knife that had to be at least 10 inches. She tucked that into her belt and then she too returned to the center to face Titus. 

Clarke’s heart was beating out of her chest, though she tried to steady it as much as possible. She could practically hear the blood pumping in her ears.

“Steady, _flougada_ ,” Murphy whispered next to her. “Deep breaths.”

She nodded quickly without looking at him and looked back to Bellamy. His face still gave nothing away, but his hands clenched the arms of his chair, so she knew he was feeling then tension too. 

There was a chance that today would be the last day of their lives. 

But more importantly, her hopeful side still outweighed the fear. Something inside of her had led her here all along. She just had to trust that. Trust that she was doing what she wasn’t allowed to on the Ark.

_Do better._

She followed Murphy’s advice and took full breaths, willing her heart to slow. Raven’s hand slipped into hers and gripped tight.

Drums sounded, and Titus took another step forward as Roan took his seat. 

Not one of the crowd murmured as they all waited for the signal.

“ _Be the last. Commence._ ” 

A long horn reverberated in the crowd and the two women face each other. 

“ _Finally, I get to wipe you from the face of the Earth, coward,_ ” Clarke heard Ontari sneer.

“ _You could try,_ ” Luna smirked.

The crowd was growing louder as the taunting and circling began and Clarke started to get pushed from all sides as the spectators in the back clamored for a better vantage point. She held her ground though, refusing to be moved. When she glanced back at Bellamy, she saw his eyes already fixed on hers and this time she nodded to him. 

_We’ve got this._

***

Not much happened for a good ten minutes, both women taking the time to size the other one up, a foot placed there, sidestepped there. Ontari whipped the blades through the air menacingly, Luna tossed her trident up and flipped her hold on it so it was parallel to the ground. Her other hand remained empty, probably as a preemptive move so she’d be able to fight close combat easier. It was a strategy that they’d discussed the day before while sparring.

At the ten minute mark, Bellamy saw the crowd growing even more restless, their thirst for blood and a victor getting stronger. He saw the smile just a fraction of a second before he heard the curdling scream erupt from Ontari as she charged Luna with her swords. 

Luna held the trident above her head with both hands to block the attack, and the clang resonated throughout the arena as the weapons clashed. Luna shoved Ontari off with a grunt and dropped quickly to the ground and swept at Ontari’s feet. 

Ontari attempted to jump to avoid the swipe, but Luna was faster and Ontari fell with a thud to the ground, losing her grip on one of her swords when she fell, and it clattered a bit away. Luna stabbed down with her trident but it hit cement as Ontari rolled and hopped back to her feet. 

She kicked at Luna’s solar plexus as she used her remaining sword to block another trident blow. She quickly rolled in the direction of the fallen sword, grabbing and crouching low in one fluid motion as Luna charged again. Ontari crossed her swords to block the trident.

“ _You can’t beat me traitor, you’re too out of practice._ ”

“ _Please,_ Ontari, _you always were focused on the wrong thing,_ ” Luna told her, forcing her trident around to the right so that Ontari’s swords had to follow, and Bellamy saw her other hand swiftly reach for the knife, stabbing towards Ontari’s now vulnerable left side. Ontari twitched at the last second, but Luna was still able to graze her, spraying black blood across the concrete. The crowd roared.

Bellamy glanced at Clarke, his heart still pounding like it had been since the fight started. He spotted her blonde waves easily, in the same spot with Raven, Murphy, and Miller. He watched her a few moments, letting his vision get his fill of her goodness, her hope. Then she gasped at the same time the crowd roared again and he had to tear his eyes away from her to see what they were cheering about.

His eyes widened as he took in the scene. Somehow they’d both lost their weapons and were now fighting hand to hand. Luna had blood covering her bottom lip and black was dripping down from another cut on her arm but she still seemed to have the edge as she uppercut Ontari under her chin. 

Ontari took a few steps back, spitting and had a murderous look in her eyes as she glared at her opponent. She wiped messily at her mouth, smearing blood across her face. Luna for her part though, looked calm, though she was panting still, her wild hair even wilder. Ontari rushed her, wrapping around Luna’s middle and the two women went down hard, Ontari on top. 

Bellamy held his breath as Ontari wasted no time throwing punches, and for a minute all Luna could do was hold her forearms up to block them. Then Ontari stuttered a bit in her movements, just for a split second, but it was enough to allow Luna to take the advantage to lunge up and grip Ontari’s wrists, spreading her arms wide and headbutting her with a roar and bringing her knee up to the graze on Ontari's side. 

“ _Fuck!_ ” Ontari screamed, heard even over the crowd, which was getting close to deafening. Bellamy realized he was literally on the edge of his seat, his hands balled into fists as the combatants got to their feet once more.

Ontari was still swearing as Luna stalked over to her knife, tucking it into her belt again, and taking up her trident. She started striding over to Ontari who was frantically looking around for her swords and Bellamy thought, _this is it. It’s almost over_.

The idea that the end could be here was enough to force air into his lungs; Bellamy hadn’t even noticed he’d stopped breathing. 

At the last moment, someone from the crowd tossed a spear to Ontari’s feet, which she quickly picked up. Because Luna hadn’t been expecting the addition of a new weapon and had too much momentum to stop, she didn’t have time to correct the attack. Ontari whipped the spear up with so much force, twisting it in front of her and knocking Luna’s trident clear across the arena. Then she whipped it around again and Luna just barely was able to dodge the stab to her chest.

He stood then, outraged that the spear had been added to the battle. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clarke step forward, screaming as well. 

“Roan! Titus! That’s… you can’t allow that!” he shouted.

“We cannot stop the Conclave once it’s started, regardless of circumstances,” Titus informed him regretfully. Roan looked just as displeased as Bellamy did, but said nothing. 

He looked down and locked eyes with Clarke, whose eyes were now full of concern. He swallowed heavily and returned to see Luna and Ontari both struggling with the spear.

“ _Surrender_ , Luna. _You cannot beat me_ ,” Ontari taunted. “ _Run away, like you are so good at doing, weakling_.”

“ _You’d - ugh! You’d like that, wouldn’t you? I’m not running this time,_ Ontari.”

The two women struggled a few moments longer, their faces inches from each other, before Ontari spat suddenly, spraying blood laced saliva in Luna’s face, breaking her concentration just long enough to give Ontari the chance to then knee the Floukru leader. 

Luna’s grip loosened on the spear and Ontari kicked it away. Luna hit the ground hard, groaning loudly. Ontari stepped on Luna’s hand, crushing her hand. For the first time, she looked up at the panel of leaders, locking sad eyes with Bellamy. 

“Get up!” he tried shouting down to her, but he knew his voice would likely end up lost in the crowd’s incessant hollering. “ _Ge smak daun, gyon op nodotaim_! You can do this!” 

_Get knocked down, get back up_. It was something his mother had taught him and his siblings growing up. 

Regardless of whether Luna could hear him, he continued shouting, trying to encourage his friend. He’d known Luna for much of his life; she was more than just a leader to him.

Ontari released Luna’s hand but kicked her in the stomach before she could get up, doubling over and breaking eye contact with Bellamy to close her eyes in a wince.

_No._

Ontari kicked again. Luna spat black blood.

_No._

Ontari gripped Luna’s hair and slammed it back down in the concrete, surely breaking her nose.

_No!_

Luna grabbed at Ontari’s ankle, bringing her down to the ground with her. Ontari’s head cracked audibly against the pavement.

He was still shouting. Looking over, he saw his family in the crowd, smashed together even closer now with the pressure of the crowd pushing in on them, still shouting. Roan was mumbling. The crowd was overwhelming.

Both women panted heavily. Luna tried getting up and collapsed back down. Ontari was trying to sit up herself, clutching at the stream of black running down her face. 

She wiped at it, black smearing even more across her sharp features than it already was. She turned to Luna still struggling a few feet away, and Bellamy recognized the vicious look in her eyes. The murderous flames that burned with a passion for vengeance, for blood, for death.

And they were powerless to do anything about it.

He could only watch, the blood in his ears pounding so furiously that he barely heard the crowd anymore. He glanced back at Clarke who looked ready to charge Ontari to keep her from getting to Luna, which would most certainly result in her own death.

He tried shouting to her futility, wishing he could reach out and hold her back.

Ontari reached Luna, climbing on top of her, and punched her in the face. Luna’s head snapped to the side. Two more punches and Bellamy could see her grappling with consciousness.

“ _Enough of this,_ ” Ontari spat. “ _Yu gonplei ste odon… not that it was much of a fight._ ” 

Ontari had ahold of the side of Luna’s head to snap her neck when it happened.

The ground beneath them started moving, the rumble violent enough to knock the bowls of fire from their pedestals into the arena below spreading coals and embers and burning wood where they fell. For a moment, Bellamy couldn't do anything but just stare at the ground and wonder what the hell was going on. His head snapped up to find Clarke, when he noticed she and the other three had disappeared from where they were not twenty seconds ago.

“Roan!” he yelled, still trying to find Clarke amongst the sea of vibrating people. “What the fuck is going on?”

“Earthquake!” Roan tried shouting back. 

A moment of silence washed through the crowd and he noticed how everyone’s gazes started turning towards the sky. 

“I don’t think it’s an earthquake,” Indra said pointedly next to him. Bellamy followed their stares up to see something falling from the heavens.

Something large and metal and _on fire_. 

A ball of fire a hundred - a thousand - times bigger than Raven’s Pod.

Without ever having seen it, it wasn’t hard to deduce what it was that was rocketing its way towards Earth.

_The Ark_.

It was coming. 

He tore his eyes away to the women still in the arena, Ontari still on top of Luna, both frozen. Ontari’s hands were still on Luna’s head, but they were loose, like they’d forgotten what they were doing there, Ontari’s own neck craned so she could watch the Ark fall. 

He watched as Luna’s stare switched quickly from the sky to Ontari, who was still distracted. 

He watched as the shaky hand that hadn’t been crushed pulled out the forgotten knife at her belt. 

He watched as she plunged the blade into Ontari, stabbing so deep that blood poured out and drenched Luna’s arm and torso in black and grunt out, so quiet Bellamy had to basically read her lips, " _Never take your eye off your opponent_ ".

He watched as Ontari tore her eyes away from the sky to stare down at her rival, eyes blinking rapidly trying to figure out what had just happened. Blood started pouring out her mouth as well and her eyes finally fluttered shut, her body collapsing to the side, falling to the concrete lifeless at the same time the Ark crashed amongst the trees not farther than a half mile away, narrowly missing the city. With it the ground ceased its trembling, but Bellamy still felt like he was shaking.

_Ontari was dead._

_The Ark had come down._

Bellamy’s heart beat furiously as he anxiously searched the crowd for his family. Finally, he caught a glimpse of blonde near the stairs to the platform he and the other leaders were on. They must’ve been trying to get to him. 

Their gaze was still towards the trees, where the Ark had crashed.

That was why they couldn’t see the man behind them, eyes focused on Clarke, sword unsheathed at his side. 

But Bellamy could. 

Bellamy started screaming and running towards the stairs.

“Clarke! Clarke! NO!”

He couldn't move fast enough, his feet felt like they were wading through water as he pushed the other leaders aside trying to get to them, to warn her.

“TURN AROUND!”

The man he recognized as Tybe, one of Ontari’s most loyal guards, crept closer and drew back his sword.

_No! Faster!_

“CLARKE!”

Her head whipped around and they locked eyes, her brows furrowed in confusion as she took in the terror on Bellamy’s face.

“WATCH OUT!”

Her eyes went wide and she turned just in time to see Tybe inches away. 

The next thing Bellamy knew, Tybe lunged forward and time seemed to slow down and speed up at the same time as he withdrew it just as quickly and Bellamy watched as it dripped blood to the ground.

“NO!”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THE ARK!
> 
> ONTARI IS DEAD!
> 
> A STABBING!
> 
> Eek! I'm super excited and super sad to be getting so close to the end, and I hope you enjoyed the way the Conclave went. I'm not particulary practiced at describing fight scenes, so I hope you could picture it alright!
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL!
> 
> Should have 32 up by Monday night PST, mayyybe Tuesday. THANK YOU! ❤


	32. Chapter 32

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> AHH I'm so thrilled that so many of you loved the last chapter, your support and love means the absolute world to me!
> 
> THANK YOU!
> 
> Also, please excuse any medical inaccuracies. Google only goes so far 😉

“CLARKE!” 

Bellamy’s words echoed in Clarke’s skull, rattling around like her brain was missing. All she remembered was the look of horror on his face, the pure fear as he pushed past whoever he needed to so he could get to her. 

She was confused, because a moment ago, horror and fear were the least of Clarke’s emotions, despite the fact that Luna was about to die, elation taking the forefront of her mind as she watched the metal box where she grew up fall from the sky. They’d been heading for Bellamy, trying to push past the guards at the stairs to the platform as Luna got pummeled in the arena. If Luna died, Ontari and her the guards still loyal to her were headed straight for them and she refused to be separated if that happened; she refused to go down easy. Then the ground shook beneath them and they stopped where they were, eyes turned towards the sky.

The Ark was a fiery, screeching rocket shooting straight towards them, and the thought of seeing her parents again filled her with relief and anticipation.

So, when he screamed her name and looked at her with paralyzing fear, Clarke was confused why Bellamy was watching her like that, knowing how excited she’d be to see her parents again.

However the confusion was quickly explained when she saw his lips mouth the next word, the sounds around her too deafening to even pretend to use her ears. 

“WATCH OUT!”

Murphy, Miller, and Raven turned at the same time she did, having recognized something was clearly wrong too. 

The first thing she noticed was the reflection of the sun, glinting off the metal of the sword.

The second thing was that the sword, held by the same guard that had taken her to see Ontari the last time she was in Polis, was headed for her. 

The third thing was Murphy, with the quick reflexes he reminded everyone he had every chance he got, darting in front her, taking the blade meant for her.

“NO!”

The sound Bellamy’s voice made was so visceral, so heartbreaking, it cut through all the ambient noises surrounding them. She couldn’t spare him a glance though, as her hands pressed into Murphy’s side, trying to stem the flow of red instantly coating her hands. 

Miller held his head in his lap and Raven was shouting obscenities while sobbing and shaking next to her, and Clarke’s own tears were mingling with Murphy’s blood, but she tried to force herself to remain calm. 

“Fuck. Fuck. Cl - is he - _fuck_!” Raven said next to her, desperately trying every which way to crouch, but unable to with the brace. 

“ _Branwada skat!_ ” Clarke heard Tybe spit, still hovering only a foot away. “ _Gon ai Heda!_ ” he exclaimed, and Clarke barely registered the rise of his sword again, presumably to finish the job of killing her. She draped her body over Murphy instinctively, even though it was her he was after. But suddenly Tybe collapsed in a heap with an arrow in his chest, his sword clattering to the ground. She whipped her head around to see Roan standing on the platform, lowering his bow.

She turned her focus back to Murphy, and she finally felt Bellamy next to her, breathing heavy and his trembling hand on her back. 

“Oh - Murphy, hey, hey, can you - can you hear me?”

“Well - ” _cough, cough_ , “of course I - can hear you, he didn’t - ” _cough cough_ , “stab in me in the ear.”

“How bad is it?” she heard Bellamy whisper. 

She couldn't look at him. 

“Hey, Murph, look at me, okay? You’re going to be okay, Clarke is going - Clarke! What do we do?” Raven stammered. “He has to be okay, Clarke!”

“I - I can’t see where this blood is coming from,” Clarke told them, voice shaking. “And there’s too much of - _shit_!” she yelled, getting tousled by people stampeding around her. “We need to get him out of here.”

“Hang on, you’re going to be okay, you’re going to be okay,” Raven repeated over and over and Clarke wasn’t sure if she was talking to Murphy or herself. “I love you and your stubborn ass ways and I need you to be stubborn now, okay? You can’t leave me, okay? We all need you,” she pleaded.

Murphy reached up with a hand and cupped her face. “I always find a way to survive, don’t worry, Rae.” His head lolled a little to the side, his eyes blinking heavily.

Miller shifted and swung Murphy up into his arms. “Where to, Griffin?”

Clarke glanced around quickly, trying to keep the pressure on Murphy’s wound. “There. The platform. No one but Roan is up there now.” Miller nodded once and took off for the stairs, Clarke almost tripping over her feet to keep up. The second they were at the top, Miller set him down again. 

“Am I gonna live?” Murphy asked her dramatically, pausing only to make sure Raven was out of earshot, then raised the back of his hand to his forehead in a flourish and while he’d obviously intended to be funny, it fell flat considering the seriousness of the situation. 

“Shut up,” Clarke murmured with no real malice in her tone. “The hell did you have to do that for? He was aiming for me.” And now one of her best friends was dying and she wasn’t exactly sure what to do about it, except try to get the bleeding to stop and pray there was no internal damage, though the doctor side of her told her that was next to impossible.

“You - ” _cough cough_ , “can’t always be the heroic one, _flougada_.”

He couldn't die for her - she wouldn’t let him. She wasn’t going to lose anyone else.

“Plus, Luna lost, we’re all going to die anyway,” he added.

She tried to peek under her hands, tried to see through the blood, but it just caused him to lose more faster. “O - okay, we need to pack this with something,” she said, mostly talking to herself. 

“What can I do?” Bellamy asked and her heart broke with how desperate he sounded. She’d do anything to keep him from sounding like that ever again. As much as Murphy was one of her best friends, her _family_ , he was Bellamy’s brother and she knew he was terrified.

She glanced around helplessly, as if somehow a magical solution to the fact that Murphy was bleeding out and probably needed surgery to - 

_Surgery_.

The smoke in the not-so-far off distance reminded her that her mother had arrived on Earth.

Her mother - _a surgeon_.

“Bellamy, radio Octavia, let her and Lincoln know what’s going on. They need to get out of there as quickly as possible before Ontari finds them. Miller, think you can carry - ”

“Ontari is dead, Clarke,” he told her with furrowed brows, probably not realizing that the four of them hadn’t seen what he apparently had.

Clarke snapped her head to him, then quickly over to the arena, where Ontari did indeed lay still in a puddle of black blood - a sizable one. Luna was on the ground too, but she was twitching and moving around, trying to get up. 

She was alive. 

Luna won. 

There were people around her, and it looked like they were trying to help, but after what had happened with Tybe, Clarke didn’t want Luna to leave her sight line. She was still so confused about what had happened, considering the last she saw, Ontari had been delivering blow after blow without break. 

“I don’t - I don’t understand. Fuck, we don’t have time for this. Miller, carry Murphy. Bellamy, go grab Luna, she got really hurt in that battle. We’ll take her with us to the Ark.”

“ _The Ark?!_ ” Raven shouted incredulously.

“Yes, we need a surgeon, or Murphy will die. We’re going to have to pray Jackson or my mother survived that landing.”

“Holy shit.”

Bellamy nodded though, and raced off towards Luna. It felt like a vacuum, like he’d taken all the air around her with him as he left. After all they’d been through, she didn’t want to be any further apart than they needed to be. But Murphy needed her to get him, _alive_ , to the Ark.

It was going to be quite the _welcome to Earth_.

The four of them got Murphy situated in Miller’s arms. He was barely responsive now, and his skin was way more pale than it should be. His pulse was erratic and she knew they didn’t have much time. This was a hail mary and everyone knew it. She packed the wound with her overshirt the best she could, grateful she’d decided to layer up that day, to keep pressure on the bleeding.

They took off for the forest, with her and Raven pushing through people to create an opening for Miller and Bellamy with Luna, who had joined them only a few minutes after they got down the stairs.

“Clarke!” she heard Roan call to her as they reached the edge of the crowd.

“Roan, we have to go!”

He nodded, “I’ll stay and get everyone under control.”

She threw him her walkie talkie. “Push the button on the side down to talk. I’ll be in touch with any update of what’s going on,” she instructed as they continued on their way. “You’re the King, make sure they fall in line!” she yelled back.

“You got it Princess,” he told her without any of his usual smug tone. Even he knew now was not the time to be joking. 

She could hear him behind her barking orders to the guards, but her brain tuned him out to focus on the matter at hand. 

The six of them raced towards the treeline in record time. 

“How far do you think it is?” Raven shouted at her, but Bellamy was the one to answer. 

“Maybe a half mile or so? That’s why it felt like a fucking earthquake at first.”

“Okay, we can do that. Miller, he still okay?”

Murphy tried to respond, but it came out more of a moan than actual words, which was fine if it meant he was still alive. 

“He’ll be fine,” Miller answered definitively. “Come on, man, stay awake.”

“Bell, how’s Luna?” Clarke asked.

Luna, however, was not responding, and she was covered in black. Clarke couldn’t even begin to guess at her injuries until they got to the Ark.

“Alive,” he said curtly and she could hear in his strained tone that he was trying to hold it together.

“Okay, everyone is going to be okay, understand? I won’t allow anything different,” Clarke insisted.

With them carrying injured people, it took longer than it would’ve normally to cross that distance. But once they broke through the thicket of trees to the clearing, they stopped to gasp as the massiveness of what was in front of them. Raven doubled over, panting, and Clarke knew she was pushing the limit of her leg.

It wasn’t even the Exodus Ship that Clarke had been half expecting, though she knew by the size of the fireball in the sky it couldn’t have been that anyway. It had to be one of the stations, probably Alpha. But to see the massive crater in front of them, it would be a miracle if anyone survived that landing. 

But, she’d chosen hope before and there was no reason to stop now. She was breathing after all. They all were. And she was determined for it to stay that way.

“Wow,” Bellamy breathed next to her, and as much as _she_ was in awe of the gigantic metal structure in front of her, she knew he had never seen or even conceptualized what he was looking at. 

“Yeah. Let’s go, we don’t have any time to waste.” Clarke cast a worrying glance back to the two injured people they were carrying. “Let me go ahead, they have no idea what they're in for.”

“I’m coming with you,” Raven said authoritatively. “They know both of us. And this is all I can do for him right now anyway.”

Clarke nodded and they took off, running as quickly as they could with Raven’s leg. They didn’t even stop when reaching the edge. Clarke turned swiftly to her side and slid down, down, down, all the way to the Ark waiting for them at the bottom. Raven was right behind her, sliding down on her good side and Clarke gripped her hand and helped her up once they got to the base of the hill.

Now that they were closer, she could hear shouting and banging and clearly there was _someone_ or multiple someones alive in there, working on getting out. 

“Mom! Dad! Someone!” Clarke couldn’t help but scream as they reached one of the corners of the box. She hesitated briefly, and reached out a hand to the steel exterior. The exterior that had not two hours ago been orbiting above them in space. Once she determined it was cool to the touch, she turned back quickly, glancing Miller and Bellamy at the top of the crater, having set down Luna and Murphy on the ground. Miller was hovering over Murphy, pressing his hands to his side, but Bellamy had his eyes on her.

He always had her, protected her, watched out for her, loved her. Everything was changing, but she knew that was one thing that would stay the same.

He nodded his support and she began to climb. 

“Raven - ”

“Yeah, I’ll wait here,” Raven tipped her head up, encouraging Clarke on. She said it with an undertone of irritation, though Clarke knew it was directed more at her leg than Clarke herself. If Sinclair survived, and with the new tech they’d now have available, Clarke hoped they might be able to build Raven a better brace.

Clarke finally got to the top and it was so high she could see for miles around her. The structure she was on top of stretched for at least a mile, the crater easily doubled that in width. She immediately started searching for the source of all the shouting beneath her, trying to figure out where it was most concentrated, when she saw movement just ahead. 

They were running out of time. If Murphy didn’t get medical attention from a surgeon soon…

She sprinted the rest of the way to the hatch door, falling to her knees ungracefully and ripping her pants in the process. She started banging and pulling on the handle.

“Open up! Mom! Dad! Theolonius! Kane! I don’t fucking care who it is, OPEN THE DAMN DOOR!” she screamed at it, pulling as hard as she could. Finally, she heard the creak of the wheel lock on the inside. They were coming.

Her heart was pounding so furiously, she was passively concerned that _she_ might need a doctor.

“Come on come on come on come on,” she muttered. “Hurry the fuck up, shit!”

She knew pulling on it wouldn’t really help, that they were going to come out when they were ready, probably concerned about radiation levels. 

She settled for screaming louder.

The door started opening incrementally by inches until Clarke scrambled to her feet and yanked it the rest of the way. 

Kane poked his head out and while Marcus Kane wasn’t her favorite person in the world, she was just so fucking happy to see someone.

He squinted at the brightness of the sun, and Clarke was aware how unused to natural light he and everyone on the Ark was. He saw her standing there and proceeded to point a rifle right at her.

“CLARKE!” she heard Bellamy shout from the distance, probably resisting the urge to run to her. 

Or he was already on his way. She wouldn’t really be surprised either way. 

Clarke raised her hands to indicate she was unarmed, though the bow and quiver at her back technically meant that she wasn’t. “Kane, it’s Clarke Griffin. I need my mother, _now_.”

He squinted at her another moment before lowering the gun finally. She timed his movements with her own, not completely dropping her hands until the gun was pointed towards the ground. 

“Clarke? You’re - you’re _alive_?!”

“Yes, I’m alive, Earth is survivable - there’s no time for any of this, I need my mom. Or Jackson. _NOW._ ”

“Out of my way, Shumway,” she heard a familiar voice command and she could cry at how desperately she’d missed that tone from her mother. Tears instantly sprang to her eyes. 

Her mother was inches away.

“Mo - mom?!”

The brown of her mother’s hair, messily braided to the side as always, poked out of the hatch door, and she squinted like Kane had. Clarke let out a strangled choking sort of noise and fell back to her knees. 

“Mo - mom?” she asked again, quieter this time. And there was no time for any sort of reunion, her need to help Murphy and Luna demanding she make this fast, but her head was spinning with the fact that within seconds she’d get to hold - and be held - by her mother again.

“Clarke?” Abby asked tentatively, voice breaking. Clarke knew she changed, that she wasn’t the same person that she was the last time her mother had seen her, that they’d have to get to know one another again, but the only tone in Abby’s voice was disbelief followed by relief and Clarke lunged for her, Abby’s arms instantly wrapping around her, albeit a little awkwardly with the weapons at her back. “You’re here, you’re okay.”

Clarke nodded in her mother’s neck, breathing her in. She pulled back. “Da - dad?” 

“He’s below deck, assessing the damage the crash caused,” Clarke let out a strangled sob at the knowledge her dad had survived too. “How are you? How is any of this - ”

Clarke couldn't let her finish, had no time to answer her questions, so she shook her head and wiped messily at her face. “I can’t - there’s no time. I need a surgeon. Right now. A - a friend of mine took a sw - was impaled in the abdomen and he’s lost a lot of blood.”

“Is it Wells?” her mother asked and Clarke choked a little, but pushed through it, shaking her head again.

“No. Someone else. Please, we have to go,” she pleaded.

Abby looked her in the eyes a moment, touched a hand to Clarke’s face, and Clarke was terrified all of a sudden that she was going to say no. “Okay.” She turned, yelling down the hatch. “Jackson!” Clarke heard him climbing up the ladder and saw his head poke out. “I need lots of O-neg and a trauma kit. And antibiotics! Quickly,” she commanded.

Jackson left her view for a moment. 

“Clarke! What's going on up there?” Raven called. “We need to hurry! He isn’t going to last much longer!”

“Is that Raven?” Abby asked, incredulous. 

“Yeah,” she answered, then turning to Raven, “we’re coming! I've got her!”

“A lot has changed,” Abby said softly.

“You have no idea,” Clarke half-laughed.

“Kane, let my husband know our daughter is alive, would you? We’ll be - ” She turned to Clarke. 

“Just at the top of the crater,” Clarke informed him. 

“Abby, I”m not sure that’s a great idea. Not without a guard presence, if this friend of hers got stabbed - ” Kane began.

“She’ll be fine. There is no danger there,” Clarke asserted.

Kane looked at her skeptically, but Abby stepped forward as Jackson climbed out and joined them. “You heard her, now go find Jake, Kane. And Theolonius. The ground is survivable. Jackson, tend the injured below the best you can until I’m back.”

Not used to taking orders, Clarke saw the councilman hesitate, though Jackson went back down without question. Kane looked around a bit before agreeing and went back below deck. Clarke took off for the edge where she’d left Raven, trusting Abby to be right behind her.

***

If Bellamy couldn’t be there next to her, he was damn well going to watch her the entire time. The moment that man held a gun to his wife, his instincts _screamed_ to go to her, to run like he’d never had. Flashes of not an hour before, when he was sure she was going to die ran through his mind’s eye and it was only Miller’s voice that talked him down, telling him that he couldn’t go, that Clarke could handle herself, that as soon as she identified herself as a Griffin, the danger would pass.

Sure enough, the man started lowering his gun and with that, Bellamy’s blood pressure.

“How are they?” he asked quietly, glancing back to Miller on the ground where they laid Luna and Murphy. Bellamy’s arms were aching, and he knew Miller’s had to be too, with the weight they were carrying at the pace they were carrying them. He went to kneel next to Luna since Miller had control of Murphy’s wound. He wasn’t sure where to start, but she didn’t appear to be actively bleeding anywhere and he had no supplies. So he settled for pulling her head in his lap and monitoring her pulse like he’d seen Clarke do and continuing to watch the Ark.

“Luna has been pretty stable, in and out of consciousness, she doesn’t seem to be too severely injured. Murphy has officially passed out. His pulse is thready too,” he told him and Bellamy’s heart sank. 

“Hurry up, Clarke,” he whispered worriedly. He tried to remember all the steps to the CPR that Clarke had taught him, begging with the universe or the gods or whoever was up there that he’d never have to actually do it. Not on Murphy.

He watched as Clarke lunged again, and flung herself into a woman’s arms. He couldn't make out any details of her, but he figured that must be his mother and putting all the life and death stuff aside for half a second, his heart soared knowing Clarke had her mother back.

“Who’s that?” a voice sounded behind him and he whirled around on the spot, seeing his pregnant sister dismount from her horse. Lincoln swung his leg over a minute later. 

“You’re here,” he breathed. He’d radioed them as soon as Clarke and Raven had taken off, but he hadn’t expected them to arrive so quickly.

“We were already on the way, so we weren’t far when you called.”

He pushed down the brotherly concern over the fact that she didn’t wait at the cave until his all-clear signal, considering the danger to her had indeed passed. 

“It’s her mother, I think,” he answered her, turning to see them running across the top of the most metal he’d ever seen in his entire life. If he thought about it too hard, it was incredibly intimidating, making his head spin with all the implications of what the Ark being down on Earth meant. 

“How is he?” O asked, dropping to her knees next to their brother.

“He needs Abby,” Bellamy choked out, not able to say - or admit - more than that. 

Lincoln knelt down next to Luna with his kit of medical supplies they’d brought from the village. None of that would help Murphy, but it might for Luna. Lincoln got to work quickly, using water to clean off the massive amounts of black to find where the wounds were. 

Bellamy felt so helpless, there wasn’t much he could do for either at that moment, but he settled for taking some of the cloth strips to help clean off and inspect his old friend.

The new Commander.

Luna was groaning, finally conscious again, and finally started to work to sit up. “Go to Murphy, he needs you more than I do,” she muttered.

“Luna, you know as well as I do, that you need help too. And it wouldn’t be great for the clans if they lost two Commanders in one day, wouldn’t you say?” Lincoln told her gently, helping Bellamy to lower her back down.

Luna groaned again that time, but Bellamy suspected that had more to do with what Lincoln said than her pain. 

“Go to him, I’ve got her.”

Bellamy nodded and rushed to Murphy’s side where Octavia was changing out the soaked shirt that Clarke had stuffed in his side. Blood started seeping immediately.

“Shit, shit, shit!”

“I got it,” Bellamy took some of the cloth strips and socked it in the red seaweed extract and pressed it to his wound, hoping it would soak up the blood better than the shirt and help with disinfecting it. Bellamy could already see how angry the wound looked, and that didn’t account for anything internally.

“Bell - ” O started, but he interrupted her.

“He’s going to be fine, O. Help me get his shirt off.” Octavia was in the middle of cutting the fabric when he heard shouts down in the crater. “O, hold this on it. Miller.” He transferred the cloth to her and he and MIller ran to the side.

“Bell! We need rope! The crater is too steep,” Clarke called up to him and he could see Abby watching them closely. There’d be time for introductions later.

“O and Linc are here, I’ll grab some from the packs on the horses,” he told her and he heard Abby’s gasp at his mention of the animals.

He was back in just a few seconds, and was immediately grateful that for however steep the hill was, at least it wasn’t deep. He and Miller worked quickly, getting themselves anchored and ready to pull up the women. Clarke was first, coming up over the edge and running straight for Murphy. 

Abby was next, and while she hesitated more, especially at the sight around her, the strange people and animals, she took off after her daughter, asking question after question about medical things that were beyond Bellamy’s understanding as he and Miller pulled up Raven.

They quickly rejoined them, and O shifted to Murphy’s feet to make room for Raven, who sat at his head, kissing his temple softly and brushing his hair back. Her eyes were red-rimmed, moist and bloodshot as she murmured things in his ear that were too quiet for Bellamy to hear. 

“Wait, Mom! He’s - ” Clarke said, panicked suddenly. “That blood might not work with him.”

“O neg is universal Clarke, it should - ”

“He was born here on the ground. He’s never been in space. I don’t know if the makeup is going to be too different. It could poison him. Shit.”

Abby stared at her daughter incredulously before bouncing her gaze around at the unfamiliar faces.

She shook her head. “Okay, are any - any of you - else - are any of you from the ground too?” she asked, looking around at the unfamiliar faces. She clearly wasn’t sure which of them were on the dropship. “It’s rudimentary, but we could do a direct transfusion,” she told Clarke. 

“Take it from me,” Bellamy said instantly. Not only were they both born on the ground, but they’d lived together for much of their lives. It was as close of a match as Abby was going to get. Clarke seemed to realize it too, because she reached over and gripped his hand and nodded, giving him a small smile. 

“Mom, this is - Bellamy. His blood will work.” 

Abby nodded, though he noted her gaze flickering over their joined hands for half a second, her expression that more of a mother than a doctor before it switched back. 

“What do you need?”

“Uh, your arm. Roll up your sleeve, pass your elbow.”

“Sit down, get comfortable, you might get a little woozy,” Clarke told him softly. “O, will you grab him something from the pack? Something with protein, nuts, jerky?” she asked and as he shifted from a crouch to sitting cross legged next to Murphy, he shed his jacket on one side, revealing his t-shirt underneath. It’d be easier than pushing it up his arm.

Abby got to work quickly, pulling tools out of her bag and attaching various things to Murphy’s chest and arm. Then some sort of machine was pulled out and flicked to life, and he, O, and Lincoln looked at it as tiny lines and beeps started filling their sight and ears. 

“Clarke, here, think you can run the line on him?” Abby murmured to her daughter as she pushed some buttons on the machine, not taking her eyes off the wavy lines, and Clarke took the needle from her mother and moved around to him. 

“Hey. You okay?” she asked softly, touching her palm to his cheek gently. He leaned into it, blinking heavily. His mind was so busy, so conflicted, so worried and he just wanted a moment of quiet, of softness with her. 

But there were more important things to take care of at that moment.

“Yeah, I’m okay,” he told her. “Just do it. We don’t have time to waste.” Clarke nodded and found a vein in his arm, and swiftly inserted the needle and then switched it with a small tube. The hose was clamped off with some sort of metal tool and he was astounded that this all made sense to them. It seemed more like witchcraft to him. 

“He’s ready,” she told Abby and Abby did some other quick things with her hands, and before he knew it, his blood was leaving his body and running down to Murphy’s veins. She caught him looking at the machine and chuckled a little while he tried to figure out what it was he was looking at. The best he could figure it had to do with Murphy's heart, since the wires were connected to something Abby had put on his chest. 

“Okay, everyone, I’m going to remove the packing and see what I can see,” Abby told them all after they’d gotten some blue plastic fabric under his side and Bellamy held his breath. 

Clarke put her hand on his shoulder and shook her head as Abby got started. “Don’t do that, you’ll pass out,” she told him, barely above a whisper. “Deep breaths, eat the food O gave you, it’ll help too.”

“Thank you,” he told her earnestly, hesitating a moment before deciding to do it anyway and dropped his head down to kiss her temple. He knew there had been no time to explain anything to Abby, and he didn’t want to force Clarke to before she was ready, but Abby was preoccupied with sticking various things inside his brother’s body he doubted she’d noticed anyway. 

“Come on, Murphy, you’re okay, Abby is here now, it’s going to be fine,” Raven kept repeating. 

“Lincoln, how’s Luna?” Clarke called over.

“She’s okay, I’ve got her pretty well cleaned up I think, only a few wounds will need stitches. But she’s out cold again. Pulse is strong though.”

Clarke nodded. “Okay. Mom, do you need me here with Murphy? Or can I go stitch up Luna?” 

Abby glanced back at the other woman on the ground before turning her focus back to Murphy. “Yeah go ahead, but I’ll need you back in a few minutes. His appendix took the blunt of the injury, so it’s going to have to come out, I’ll need help with that once I get the wound cleaned out.” Then she did a double take. “Is her blood black?” 

“There’s so much to explain, so don’t ask me to right now, but yeah, her blood is black, Mom.”

Abby nodded and faltered only briefly before resuming her efforts on Murphy. 

“You good?” Clarke asked him.

He nodded, but was starting to feel a little woozy, which she obviously noticed. “Yep. Just fine.” Clarke narrowed her eyes at him. “Little dizzy,” he admitted. Clarke called Lincoln over to sit with him. “What’s an appendix? And that thing?” he asked, nodding over to the machine and trying to take the attention off of him. 

Clarke left him to go to Luna, but answered him anyway as she started working on Luna’s injuries. “It’s a portable heart monitor, the wires keep track of his heart beat so that we’ll be alerted if his heart stops. The spikes on the screen and the beeping you hear is his heartbeat. The appendix is an organ. He doesn’t need it to live, so taking it out shouldn’t do any lasting damage, as long as there’s no infection. He’s really lucky that it was what the sword pierced.”

It was like a collective sigh could be heard from all of them, the tension in the air almost audibly dissipating with the information. 

“What if he wakes up while you’re taking it out? Won’t it be painful?”

“I can hold him down,” Lincoln offered.

“Won’t be necessary. I gave him a sedative before I started working. He won't be waking anytime soon,” Abby interjected. She turned and squinted at the monitor though and added, “But his heart rate is slower than I’d like. He could probably use an oxygen mask. I don’t suppose any of you know how to get that set up?” she asked with a raised eyebrow. 

“I can do it,” Raven croaked and reached over to Abby’s bag, hands shaking and pulled it out.

After dropping it a few times though, Miller laid his hands over hers. “Here, let me.” He gently eased the plastic mask away from Raven and over Murphy’s nose and mouth. Bellamy wished he could help, but he was suddenly having a little trouble seeing straight. 

“Bell, you okay?” O asked, clearly noticing how he was wobbling a little. 

Lincoln put a hand on his back. “Steady, man. Clarke?”

“Murphy should be okay with what he gave, but we need to keep the line in just in case the removal starts the bleeding over again. But we can clamp off the tube for now, to give Bell a break. O did you see how I took it off? You’ll just put it right back on the same way,” she called over.

“I can do it,” he said, reaching for the tool and putting it back on the line. He leaned a little heavily into Lincoln, but tried to keep his focus on Murphy as he ate a piece of dried apple O handed him.

“Okay, I’m ready,” Clarke told Abby, coming back from Luna. Just then the radio squawked next to him, making them all jump. 

“What the hell is taking so long Griffin?” Roan’s demanding voice sounded. “Is our Commander alive? Murphy? Crowd is getting antsy. We’ve taken Ontari’s body to the Holy Place with Titus for the Flame’s removal, but people need to know they still have a leader. And a bomb dropped from the sky that I’m having to do everything I can to keep them from chasing after... Fuck I don’t even know if I’m fucking doing this right. Talking into a fucking metal box… I feel like an idiot.” 

They all stifled a chuckle, which was a welcome change. Bellamy grabbed the walkie and handed it over to Clarke, pushing the button for her so she could talk while getting ready to help Abby. 

“Yes, you’re doing it right. Luna is fine, just finished stitching her up. She’s resting though right now, but as soon as she wakes up I’ll send her your way. In the meantime, you’re the King, stop complaining and keep them in line.”

Static for a moment, then, “You don’t have to be so rude about it.”

Clarke chuckled again. “And Murphy… is going to be fine. My mother is here, we’re getting him patched up.”

“Good. Knew that son of a bitch was too stubborn to die. Keep me updated, Griffin.”

“Okay, Mom, where do you want me?” Clarke asked once the conversation was over and for the next half hour or so, he watched as they did a sort of dance, talking in half sentences, putting tools in Murphy that he’d never seen before and pulling stuff out. At one point, they pulled out something bloody, which Bellamy assumed to be the appendix. Octavia had taken to standing and pacing around, keeping eyes on both them and the treeline, which was probably smart, considering who knew how many Ontari loyalists might be hunting for them.

Suddenly, just about when it looked like they were done, there was shouting coming from the crater and everyone except Abby and Clarke turned towards it. Octavia started walking over, her sword drawn and on guard, mostly out of habit, especially considering that the Ark had no idea what was happening.

“Be careful, O,” he couldn’t help but remind her.

He watched as she had a muffled conversation he couldn’t make out with the people below for a moment before turning back to them and raising her voice. “Uh, there’s a Jake here? Says he’s Clarke’s dad. And a Jaha? And a Kane.”

Clarke’s head snapped up. “Dad?”

“Go ahead honey, I’m just closing him up now.”

Clarke’s gaze shot to Bellamy. “My dad’s here,” she breathed, voice hopeful and what sounded like a little nervousness. 

“Well go on then,” he urged. “I’d go with you, but…” he trailed off, gesturing to his arm with the tube still attached to Murphy. Since they’d clamped it off, he’d started feeling better, but the spot where the needle had gone in had started to get a little sore.

“Oh, right,” Abby said, stilling her hands and looking up at him. “Clarke you can actually take that out of him if you’d like. This boy probably won’t need any more, and even if he does, we can get it from someone else.”

Bellamy breathed a sigh of relief, and it took less than a minute for Clarke to remove the tube. He stood, wobbling a little, but Clarke wrapped her arms around his neck, steadying him as she usually did. He responded instantly, wrapping his own arms around her waist.

“Hey, Princess,” he said softly in her ear and he felt her smile on his skin. “Come on.” He took her hand and started guiding her over to the edge. When they got to the crater, he noticed there were a lot more than just the three people O had mentioned and upon noticing his and Clarke’s presence, lifted guns at them. 

They moved as one, Bellamy in front of Octavia and Clarke in front of him, all three with their hands up.

“What the hell do you think you’re doing? Put the damn guns down,” the man at the front of the small group commanded the rest. It wasn’t hard to recognize this man as Clarke’s father with his light eyes and hair. “That is my daughter and you will stand down.”

“Doesn’t look like Clarke Griffin, sir,” the man with the biggest gun retorted.

“Fuck off Shumway, get that thing away from him, Kane,” Clarke ordered, and the man - Shumway - narrowed his eyes at her.

“Do what Jake and Clarke said, stand down,” the other man, who must’ve been Kane, shot at him. Shumway wavered a moment, before finally doing as he was told. Bellamy inhaled deeply and his muscles relaxed a little.

“Hey sweetheart,” Clarke’s dad said, looking up at his daughter with a smile on his face. “Long time no see.”

Bellamy heard a choked sort of noise escape from Clarke, and he moved instinctively over and put a hand at the small of her back and she shifted so she could lean on him. “Hi Dad.”

“Chancellor!” someone called from on top of the Ark, carrying what looked like some rope and a metal spike. “Got the gear.”

“Wonderful!” the man next to Clarke’s father told him. “Clarke, think you and your friends can get this staked for us? Then we can get out of this hole.”

Clarke nodded and looked up at him. “Want to go grab Lincoln and Miller?”

“Don’t think _I_ can do it, Princess?” he smirked at her and she smacked his chest lightly. He held his hands up in surrender and turned to beckon the men over. 

Together, they were able to get it staked down, and he and Lincoln stood at the ready in case something faltered as Clarke stood anxiously nearby. He could see how nervous she was, feet shifting, fingers fidgeting. He gripped her hand tightly and she gave him a grateful smile. 

“I’m sorry, you shouldn’t be helping me right now. I think they’re okay, you should go back to Murphy and Luna,” she told him, shaking her head.

“Hey hey, none of that now, okay?” he affirmed, snaking his arm around her waist. “Murphy is fine, he isn’t the one that needs me right now, my wife is,” he said softly, kissing her temple. 

“Wife… ohh I have so much to explain to them,” she groaned, clearly overwhelmed, closing her eyes and scrunching her face.

“Whenever you’re ready though, I’m not going anywhere.”

She leaned her head on his shoulder. “And Polis? My mom heard enough over the radio with Roan to be incredibly suspicious. She may have looked focused, but trust me, Abby Griffin doesn’t miss a thing,” she muttered.

“We will figure it all out, together, okay? The hard part is over, Ontari is gone, Luna is alive, Floukru is in charge of the coalition now. Everything else is semantics and politics. You did it, you showed _everyone_ what it means to do better.”

She scoffed. “ _We_ did it, you mean. It wasn’t just me.”

“Sure. But you got the ball rolling, you started this whole thing,” he pointed out. “Have I told you lately how incredibly proud I am to call you my wife? Or how desperately in love with you I am?” he asked, face dipping down to her neck, kissing her ear.

“Not in the last hour, no,” she teased.

“Well, I am. Desperately in love with you. And incredibly proud to get to stand with you.”

She tilted her head towards him. “I love you too,” she breathed and they shared a brief kiss before the first person appeared over the cliffside. 

Lincoln was already helping her father up and she rushed over to help too, and he glanced back at the ones still over with Murphy and Luna and startled when he saw Abby standing with her arms crossed, watching him carefully. There was no way she had just missed his and Clarke’s show of affection.

Clarke was right; she didn’t miss a thing.

He nodded his head towards her and while her stance and blank demeanor didn’t change, he saw her eyes soften just a fraction. He took a deep breath and turned to watch Clarke greet her father, already in his arms.

“Missed you so much, kiddo,” he was saying.

“Me too.”

They parted, and Bellamy could see Clarke’s eyes shimmering. She cleared her throat as the rest of them came over the ridge. She stepped away from her father and he noticed how the man didn’t take his eyes off of Clarke, like if he did she’d evaporate.

He glanced around at O and Lincoln, who were standing off to the side, watching the newcomers warily. “Let’s all go over here, hmm?” he suggested to the group, nodding towards Abby, Raven, Murphy, and Luna.

“Are those _horses?!_ ” he heard Jake ask Clarke and her responding laugh made Bellamy smile.

Abby immediately went and stood with her husband and daughter, putting a hand to Clarke’s face affectionately. His heart swelled at their reunion.

The air was thick with tension, everyone unsure what to say or where to start.

“How is he, Mom?” Clarke asked, kneeling down next to Murphy and placing a hand on top of one of Raven’s, who gripped her friend back.

Abby clasped her hands in front of her and smiled. “He’s going to be fine, as long as there’s no infection. I’ve given him a healthy dose of antibiotics. But without really knowing what the object was or how clean it was - ”

“It was a sword,” Clarke interrupted, standing and moving to stand next to Bellamy, not too close, but close enough for it to be obviously intentional, something every single one of them noticed. “There is a lot to catch up on, more than we have time for right now. But since they are both stable, I’ll at least make introductions,” she said authoritatively, crossing her arms and facing the group. He tried - and failed - not to smile. “There’s a lot to get through, and we really need to get back to Polis.”

“Clarke - ” the man who answered to ‘Chancellor’ in the crater began, but Clarke held up a hand. The entire crowd looked anxious and confused.

“Sorry, Thelonious. You wouldn’t even know where to start,” Clarke told him. “Okay, first off, obviously there are people here on the ground. We thought the Earth would be uninhabited, and we were _so_ wrong about that,” she said, scoffing and shaking her head. “So you all know Nathan Miller, Raven Reyes, and myself, obviously. We’ve been staying in a village near the ocean, Sonchahou, part of the clan called Floukru led by Luna,” she said carefully, pointing them out. “Murphy, Octavia, and Lincoln are members of that village as well. Bellamy - ” she said, turning and giving him a small smile. He reached out and grabbed her hand, interlacing their fingers and she squeezed and held on tight. 

The group watched motion warily and waited for her to finish his introduction. He could faintly hear that Octavia had started chuckling into Lincoln’s shoulder.

“Bellamy is the leader of Sonchahou. And - uh - my husband,” she told them. He tensed, waiting for the barrage of questions he was sure was coming, but they stayed silent. “I know, um, that none of this is what you expected when you landed, but right now we need to get Luna back to Polis, about a half mile that way,” she pointed off into the trees. “There will be plenty of time to catch up, but right now - ” Clarke tried to explain, but was interrupted by a long moan from Murphy.

Raven crashed back down from where she was standing. “Hey, hey, Murphy, can you hear me?”

“Yeah,” he grunted, trying to move around. He started trying to sit up, but they all converged on him, trying to keep him down, including Abby, who had finally tore her eyes away from her daughter.

“Stop, you need rest. You just had surgery,” Raven insisted.

“Surgery? What the - ”

“The sword pierced your appendix, we had to remove it,” Abby told him.

Murphy squinted up at her. “The fuck is an appendix? And who the fuck are you?”

“Murphy, this my mother,” Clarke told him. Abby stood with her arms crossed.

“Oh fu - sorry. I uh, sorry,” Murphy stammered, blushing a little. “Thank you then, for, uh, removing my appendix?”

“How’re you feeling, man?” Bellamy asked.

“Like I got stabbed with a fucking sword, shit,” he groaned again.

Raven’s responding chuckle was a little wet. “I was so - fuck - I was so scared.”

“Hey, hey,” Murphy said, stretching an arm up to cup Raven’s cheek. “I’m okay. I told you, I’m like a cockroach, I always find a way to survive.”

“Murphy, you, uh, took that sword for me, to save _me_ , I don’t - ” Clarke piped in, wringing her hands a bit. “You almost died, you came so - just thank you.” It was something Bellamy hadn’t really allowed himself to really dwell on, not yet, the fact that Tybe’s target was clearly Clarke. But he could feel the anxiety and panic rising inside of him, the idea that Tybe might not be the only one looking for revenge. He hoped they weren’t wrong, that Roan would be able to control his people.

“Don’t get all mushy on me, _flougada_ ,” Murphy smirked at her. “You and Blake can’t be the only ones saving the day. Hey Miller,” he called, turning away from Clarke.

“Yeah man?” Miller said, coming up next to him and clasping Murphy’s arm in greeting. 

“Tell Jasper I want my cape in blue.”

“You got it,” Miller told him, smiling and shaking his head. Quiet laughter filled the space for a while, until Clarke’s father cleared his throat, reminding them that there was still a large group of people from the Ark still awaiting explanation. 

Bellamy stood and faced them. “Clarke and I have agreed to help you guys get on your feet. We have some business to attend to in Polis with Luna and we’re unfortunately not sure how long that will take. It isn’t the safest place for you all to be, so - ”

“I’m not leaving my daughter,” Abby insisted, stepping forward and crossing her arms. He nodded at her.

“Of course not, I wouldn’t expect that,” he responded, glancing at Clarke. “But that should be it for now.”

“I’m sorry young man, but I am the Chancellor, and it is my duty to -”

“I”m sorry, Theolonius, but you may be the Chancellor, but we’re in charge. So for now, it would be wise for you all to heed our advice. Azgeda won’t be happy you’re here, technically this is still their territory. But we will let Roan know that you’re setting up in this field for the time being, and I expect him to be fine with that.”

“Clarke, where is the dropship? My son?” the Chancellor asked and he felt Clarke’s whole body start trembling. She reached out to him for support, which he readily gave, wrapping his arm around her waist and drawing her in close. 

“Uh - the dropship is still there, where we landed. About 20 miles southeast of here. It’s controlled by Azgeda now, you won’t find friends there. Wells is - ” she took a breath and Bellamy realized who the man was, how hard this was going to be for her. The tears started falling from her eyes and Bellamy tightened his grip on her. 

“I got you,” he told her softly when he felt her start to lose her balance. 

“Wells died, a while ago. I’m - I’m so sorry. I loved him too, you know that.”

Theolonius’s face looked blank, completely devoid of emotion, until his head started shaking slowly at first, before he clenched his eyes shut and shook it more vigorously. “Not my boy,” he said softly. “How?” he asked through his sobs.

“He was trying to get to me. One of the prisoners we were sent down with killed him. I’m sorry, I’m so sorry,” she repeated, her voice breaking, and she turned her head so she could rest her cheek on his chest. Bellamy brought his other arm up to hold onto her arm and held on for dear life. He could feel the shake her body made as the fresh wave of grief rolled through her. His own eyes were tearing up as well. In fact, there wasn’t a dry eye around. It was obvious how loved Wells had been. 

The man - Kane, Clarke had referred to him as - wrapped an arm around Theolonius’s shoulder as his sobs lessened. He made eye contact with Clarke’s dad, Jake, before Jake’s eyes drifted down to his daughter in Bellamy’s arms, then over to his wife, still crouched down by Murphy.

Clarke sniffled a little and wiped at the back of her face. “Okay. We, uh, we need to go. Luna will be waking up anytime now and she needs to take the Flame before they mutiny against Roan.”

“Clarke, are you sure? We can - ” he asked, not wanting to rush her, however true her words were. 

“No,” she said, cutting him off and stepping back a little. “We have to do this, see it through.”

“Okay,” he agreed, not letting go of her hand. 

“Lincoln,” she said, turning towards him. “Get Luna up on one of the horses, ride with her over to Polis. Bellamy and I will take the other horse. Miller, Octavia, coordinate here with the Ark. Raven, stay with Murphy.”

“Hey! I can go too,” Murphy tried protesting.

“Excuse me, you just had abdominal surgery and I’d appreciate it if you didn’t ruin all my hard work,” Abby told him. Murphy glared at her, but acquiesced.

“Jake and I will go ahead with them to this - Polis?” Abby clarified. Clarke nodded. “Everyone else, get the tents and other emergency supplies out before dark. Let Jackson know I want a med tent to be the first priority. And to check Murphy’s wound every hour,” she directed. Theolonius looked like he might protest to Abby taking the lead, but he also looked too drained and upset to speak up at the moment. 

‘Clarke we only have two horses,” Bellamy pointed. 

“Actually, O and I tied a couple extra just inside the treeline, in case we needed them,” Lincoln offered, already kneeling down to get Luna, who had just started rousing. Miller went with him to help get Luna up on the horse securely.

He and Clarke went to retrieve the other horses and Jake and Abby came up to where they were getting ready to mount. “Sweetheart,” Jake spoke up. “I - uh - we don’t know how to ride horses.”

Clarke nodded. “Right. Okay. Dad, you can ride with me. Mom, you can ride with Bellamy. That okay?” she asked over her shoulder at him. He smiled and nodded. “Okay with you two?” 

He saw them almost hesitate, and really he couldn't blame them. But if they insisted on coming with them to Polis, that was the best way to do it. He walked a few feet away to the horses, wanting to give them whatever moment of privacy he could, even though he was still in earshot.

“Husband, hmm?” he heard Abby say to Clarke, even though she’d dropped her voice way low. 

“Yeah, Mom. We got married a couple months ago,” Clarke told her and Bellamy caught the easy way she said it, like there wasn't anything weighing her down anymore, like she was happy. And his heart beat a little faster knowing that it was being married to him that made her feel that way.

“Wish we could’ve been there, kiddo,” Jake told her, softly, with a hint of sorrow. 

“Me too, Dad. I’m just glad you’re here though. You’ll really like the village, and the people. And Bellamy. You were right, living is about more than just surviving,” she told him and he heard Jake’s sniffle.

“We trust you, Clarke, of course, but - ” Abby said to her daughter, voice hesitant. “But so far the ground just looks - violent.”

Clarke chuckled softly and Bellamy let out one of his own as he walked back over to the three of them. “Yeah, we’re working on that.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Fun fact: Two months ago when I plotted this chapter, it WAS Clarke that got stabbed, but over the course of writing it, it felt too off and that woman had been through enough in this fic (and a few other logistical reasons), so poor Murphy was the one who ended up with it instead.
> 
> BUT he's okay! Everyone's okay and the Griffin family is back together and YAY!
> 
> Hope you enjoyed it! Can you believe we've got only one chapter left?! 😢 
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL!
> 
> PS. I've got an Aladdin AU (4 parts total) coming up probably today or tomorrow if anyone is interested in reading our faves as Disney characters. It has a touch of angst, but it's SO FLUFFY and silly and CHEESY AS HELL and I had a freaking blast writing it so if that at all interests you, keep a lookout for it or find me on [tumblr](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/) where I will post a link when it's up!


	33. Chapter 33

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I can't believe this is it!
> 
> I'm sorry for the later than normal update, things got away from met this last week. But I hope you enjoy the conclusion of this version of Bellarke's love story. Becasue as fanfic writers we get the priviledge of showing you all the different ways, all the different worlds, all the different situations that show Bellamy and Clarke falling in love. There are so many incredible stories out there and I can't tell you how much I truly appreciate you choosing this as one of them to read! I've really loved being on this crazy story and I've loved interacting and having all of you with me on it. Whether you're just now joining or have been here since the beginning, you all mean SO much to me.
> 
> One more note - I know the fandom is having a really hard time right now with things that have started coming out, but I've decided to keep writing Bellarke because it's always been about the characters for me, and not the actors. However, I know that some of you need more time to process and you should absolutely do so and not feel pressured by anyone to move past it too quickly. This story will be here whenever you're ready (IF you're ready) to come back to it.
> 
> Without further ado (or tears, because GUYS THERE ARE TEARS), here is the last chapter of Moved By You.

“Clarke! Clarke! Guess what!” Madi shouted, running with such vigor she almost knocked Clarke clear off her feet. She was practically jumping up and down and had a huge grin on her face. 

Clarke crouched down and tried to smooth Madi’s wild hair back. It had grown long in the three months she and Bellamy had ended up having to stay in Polis, and in the month since they’d finally gotten back, but she always refused to put it up or in a braid. She knew Adele was constantly on her about it, worried that she’d get it caught in something, but true to Madi’s unique personality, she just shrugged at the suggestion and risked it anyway.

Summer was finally in full swing, the brilliant sun warming the world around them. But that also meant an uptick in the wind. Clarke’s own waves had to be pinned back most of the time too. But Bellamy was always right there to tuck back what escaped her braid.

“What is it, Madi?” she asked the girl with a smile. 

“O let me hold Alexandra!”

“She did?” Clarke grinned. It was an easy smile, one that always appeared whenever her niece was mentioned. From the moment that sweet girl was born a month and a half ago, she couldn’t get enough of her. And even that paled in comparison to the way Bellamy looked at her. So Clarke more than understood Madi’s excitement. “How’s she doing?”

“O _says_ she’s good, but between you and me,” Madi told Clarke, dropping her voice to a whisper, “I think she’s tired.”

Clarke chuckled. She had meant the baby, but it was always good to hear about Octavia too. “Yes, well, I’ve heard that’s part of being a parent.”

“And the baby is _so_ cute, Clarke! She keeps scrunching her nose, like this,” Madi imitated, making Clarke laugh again. “And she has these big eyes and she wrapped her little hand around my finger! She’s so strong!”

“I’m so glad you got to hold her, I know how patient you’ve been,” Clarke told her, straightening up. “I’ll see you later?”

Madi rolled her eyes. “Duh! I wouldn’t miss it!” Then the little girl took off down the path towards her home, presumably to gush to Adele about the baby too.

Clarke watched her go, putting a hand up to shield her eyes from the brightness of the day before turning and continuing her path over to Harper and Monty’s cabin to start getting ready. 

She really had no idea why they requested that she show up four whole hours before, but once Harper had given her the _look_ , Clarke had relented and promised to be there on time. 

Sonchahou was bustling that day, as it had been ever since the weather officially turned, the sun being out more often than the clouds now. There was also the fact that their clan leader was now officially the Commander of the Twelve Clans (soon to be Thirteen when the Ark finished initiation) and the village had seen an uptick in visitors. 

In fact, there were so many new people coming to visit their Heda that Bellamy had to commission new cabins to house them all during visits, since the Rig was only available at the time of their meeting with Luna. It wasn’t a problem though - the Ark had volunteered to build them since Sonchahou had been helping them get on their feet.

It’d taken much longer than anyone had expected to get the approval from the clans for Luna’s Ascension, despite the fact that they knew resistance was a probability. None of what had happened with Ontari had been very traditional and even with Roan vouching for them with Azgeda, there had still been numerous contention and debates and arguments.

Surprisingly, the biggest obstacle was Sangedakru. They had thrived under Ontari’s rules and leadership, most of their crimes had gone unanswered and without justice, Roan had explained. Luna had made it clear that the way of the Coalition would be changing, that crimes would have consequences, that peace was the ultimate goal. Sandgedakru’d had a problem with that. But eventually, they couldn’t deny Luna’s right to the Flame, that Ontari herself had agreed to the Conclave and whatever resulted from it, and they’d submitted.

Roan had been able to shut down dissenters within Azgeda eventually - the fact that they were able to remain in charge of Polis was a big help. 

Then there was the Ark - Floukru was really the only clan willing to accept them at first. Not many, including Trikru, were too keen on accepting them as part of the Coalition. Even the Ark had their reservations and they lost a few people to stubborness and an unwillingness to learn from the Grounders. Shumway, the Guard member Clarke had liked the least while she was growing up, and Diana Sydney, a former Council member forced to resign a few years before Clarke left for Earth, had mutinied against Chancellor Jaha and tried to take over Arkadia (the name of the settlement the Ark had decided on). 

They killed many people during their attempt, including Monty’s father, but were ultimately stopped by Luna, who Theolonius had turned to for help. Once they were locked up and leadership had been restored to the original council members, they finally agreed to entertain the idea of becoming an official clan. They ended up settling closer to Sonchahou, since they would be exchanging goods and services the most. And after a few more agreements, the clans agreed to let them into the coalition after a trial period.

In the end, Luna had received approval from all clans and finally ascended - to Clarke’s surprise by way of an AI - and they set about making necessary arrangements to travel back to Floukru. 

Unfortunately, another reason why they were gone so long was that Octavia had gone into labor a few weeks early, and she had to give birth in Polis. Which turned out to be a blessing, since Alexandra wasn’t breathing when she finally made her appearance, suffering from Perinatal Asphyxia. Thankfully Abby had been present, and was able to administer supplemental oxygen to the newborn; after a few days she was breathing fine on her own. 

Madi was right about one thing, that sweet and doted upon little one was _strong_ , just like her parents.

And she was incredibly beloved by all, once they’d gotten back, the entirety of their little delinquent family took turns taking care of O and Lincoln, letting them get rest, bringing them food and games and company. 

Aurora met them at the gates when they finally arrived, worry lines evident in the new grandmother‘s expression, but she had relaxed almost immediately once she saw that everyone had come back safely. And she delighted in meeting Clarke’s parents, though she couldn’t necessarily say they felt the same. 

It’d been about what she had expected. Once they got over their shock at hearing most of what Clarke had to go through during her time on the ground, they peppered her (and Bellamy) with constant questions. They were never mean, though her mother was sharper than Clarke would have liked, and Clarke knew it would take some time for them to adjust. They mostly stayed with Arkadia, preoccupied with helping everyone get their footing in their new way of life. Still, they worked hard at maintaining contact and Clarke knew they were really trying.

Then there was Murphy, who had spent a few days arguing with Jackson and Raven in the makeshift Med Tent, until he’d finally gotten the all-clear to join them at the Tower, only a day before the baby was born. Clarke had never seen the amount of joy and pride on his face as she did when Alexandra had arrived. 

And Bellamy.

Clarke laughed a little to herself at the memory of her husband’s reaction to his sister having a baby of her own. He was protective, and proud, and insistent, but there was such _delight_ in his eyes and when he gripped her hand, overcome with sobs of joy after they knew Alex would be okay; she felt his elation all the way down to her soul.

And the brightness and hope in his eyes was reflected in her own and she knew without a doubt that one day they’d have a little bundle of their own to raise and teach and watch grow in their village by the ocean. 

But first, they had other business to attend to.

“ _Finally_ ,” Raven exclaimed as Clarke walked in the door. “Harper was just about to go storming across the village looking for you.”

Harper gasped, mock offended. “I was _not_ ,” she insisted. 

Raven just rolled her eyes and came up to Clarke, weaving their arms together. “You ready?”

“Of course I am. I’m just not sure why I have to be here _four hours_ early. Or why I wasn’t allowed to sleep in my own bed last night. Or see my husband _all day_.”

“Uh huh,” Harper said waving a finger in her direction. “For now, he isn’t your husband until _after_ the wedding. We’ve been through this,” she chastised.

Clarke sighed and grumbled a little. “But he _is_ ,” she couldn’t help but mumbled under her breath. Then Harper gave her a sharp look and Clarke clamped her mouth shut. 

“Clarke complaining about not seeing Bellamy for all of like 24 hours again?” Octavia asked, walking through the door with a familiar bundle in her arms. 

“You know your sister,” Raven tattled, one eyebrow cocked.

“Thought she wasn’t my sister yet,” Clarke mumbled again, crossing the room to greet Octavia.

“Oh just humor her, I find it’s much easier to - oh, you’re taking the baby - get through it that way,” Octavia laughed, handing Alex over to Clarke. 

Clarke stared down at the little one. “Hey sweetheart, smile for Auntie Clarke!” she cooed. Alex scrunched her nose and blew spit bubbles in response. “Good enough!” Then the baby burped and they all let out little laughs. 

“She just ate, that’s why I was late, don’t be mad at me,” Octavia said to Harper, hands up in surrender. 

“I could never be mad at this perfect girl,” Harper smiled down over Clarke’s shoulder. “You take all the time you need to eat so you can grow big and strong,” she told the baby.

“Not too quickly though, preferably?” O chuckled. 

“Okay.” Harper announced, straightening up and clapping her hands. “Raven, take Alex.”

“Hey!” Clarke protested, but allowed Raven to take the cooing baby.

“Now. It’s your wedding day,” Harper told her with a soft smile, her previous bossy demeanor gone. “We are going to drink and laugh and help you get ready.”

Clarke couldn’t help the smile that started taking over her face, her hesitations waning in favor of the fact that she was with her family. They loved her, cared for her, and wanted to share this with her and Bellamy. 

So she let Harper make toasts - with Octavia finally getting to drink with them - and do her hair, a beautiful, intricate side braid that draped over her shoulder. Raven and Octavia alternated between playing games with her and rocking a now sleeping Alexandra. 

Soon, the sun had started dipping down. It was early evening, the dark orange of a sun almost ready to set casting a beautiful glow through the cabin. There was a knock at the door, just after Clarke had finished getting dressed. She and Harper had spent a couple weeks talking about what Clarke would like and in the end, they decided on an ivory, a-line v-neckline with lace and some other flowy material that Louwoda Klironkru had sent over as a gift. 

Clarke had long since come to terms with the fact that she’d never be one for dresses, but even she had to admit that Harper had outdone herself. 

“As long as you aren’t Bellamy, come in!” Octavia called softly so she wouldn’t wake her daughter.

Clarke rolled her eyes and turned to face the room to see the three women looking at her. Harper had watery eyes, Raven a genuine smile on her lips, and Octavia even had a tear rolling down her cheek.

“Are you - _crying_ , O?” she teased.

“Shut up. It’s just hormones.”

“Sure,” Raven laughed.

Murphy poked his head around the corner of the door. “Looking good, _flougada_. Well done, Harp.”

Harper took a bow and Clarke blushed, suddenly realizing that there were a lot of people about to be staring at her in an hour’s time. It wouldn’t be the whole village or multiple clans like what usually happened when a leader got married though; they’d opted for just the people closest to them, but still, there’d be quite a few people there.. 

“What about me?” Raven said, cocking an eyebrow at her boyfriend as she walked over to him to give him a quick kiss.

“Well, obviously you’re the _most_ stunning,” he smiled at her. 

“What’s up, Murphy?” Clarke asked.

“There is someone here to see you,” he told them. Just as they were about to protest that Bellamy wasn’t allowed in, he held up a hand. “Not him.”

Murphy opened the door wider and in walked Abby.

Clarke let out a little gasp and felt her eyes well up. “You're here,” she breathed.

“Of course I am. Your dad is here too, over with Bellamy and the other guys.” Just as Clarke opened her mouth to voice her concerns, Abby added, “He’s excited for you, honey. He’ll be nice.” 

“We’ll, uh, give you a few moments alone,” Harper said sweetly, touching Clarke’s shoulder lightly. 

Once they were alone, Abby walked up to her and put a hand under Clarke’s chin. “You look beautiful. I always knew you would make a lovely bride. Even though you’re already married, technically.” Abby smiled and Clarke couldn’t detect anything in her tone to indicate that she was being anything less than genuine. 

“I’m glad you’re here, Mom. Dad, too. I know this isn’t - this isn’t what you had in mind. It wasn’t exactly in my plans either. But somewhere along the way, these people became my family, and I love them. And Bellamy is - he’s extraordinary and is exactly who I was meant to share my life with.”

“Come, sit,” Abby beckoned and Clarke complied. “Did I ever tell you that my parents were not very happy with my choice in husband either?”

Clarke looked at her mother, shocked. “What? Grandma and Grandpa loved Dad.”

Abby chuckled. “By the time you were born, sure they did. But before that?” She shook her head. “Let’s just say I was supposed to marry someone else. Someone from my ‘station’.”

Clarke ducked her head. That was something that was expected on the Ark. To keep the classes apart instead of blending them. She hated it and was so grateful she was no longer up there with those expectations.

“Your father though, he swept me off my feet. Showed me what kindness was, what it felt like to be loved, unconditionally. He taught me that life was more than just surviving. Something I know he taught you too.”

Clarke wiped away an errant tear that had escaped the corner of her eyes at the memory of the conversation they’d had before she left for Earth. The conversation that had allowed her to let the people of this village, let _Bellamy_ , into her heart.

“I’m so proud of you, Clarke, of the woman you’ve become.”

“Thanks, Mom.” Abby wrapped her in a hug and Clarke closed her eyes, relishing in the way her mother enveloped her, the embrace that she’d been missing all these months on the ground. 

Another knock came at the door and this time it was Monty that popped his head in. “Sorry to interrupt, but you have another visitor. I had to talk Harper into it, but thankfully I have my ways,” he said with a shake of his eyebrows that made Clarke laugh. “You look great, by the way.”

Clarke wondered for only a brief few moments who it could be that would need Harper’s permission before it clicked in her head. Her heart started pounding and she didn’t care if anyone made fun of her or thought she was ridiculous. She was in love and she wasn’t going to focus on anything else. Not today.

“Your dad and I will be waiting for you on the beach, sweetie,” Abby said, squeezing her hand one last time before ducking out. 

“Bellamy?”

***

“So what are you going to miss the most about bachelor-hood?” Murphy asked him while they were in his cabin getting ready and Bellamy shot him a look.

“For the last time, I’m not a bachelor. I’m _already married_ ,” he emphasized. He was regretting letting Murphy read through the various books he’d found over the years. Maybe then he wouldn’t have even known what a bachelor was.

“You sound like Clarke. Harper said she was none too happy that we kept you from her last night,” Monty told him. 

“Yeah, I can’t say I was thrilled either,” Bellamy agreed.

Over the past few months, it had felt like they’d finally gotten a chance to breathe, despite how busy it was helping Luna with the Ascension and the clans’ endless questions about what life would look like now. 

Still, there was a sense of accomplishment that came with all of it. There was hope and peace in the air again, a lightness that he’d only dreamt of. 

While they’d all had a hand in it, it was Clarke who had started it all, who had refused to let innocent people suffer and die, risking her own life for people she’d just met. 

It was who she was. And if it was even possible, he had fallen even more in love with her. 

He knew she was worried still, with the Ark and trying to help them integrate and accept a new way of living. And most of them were still endlessly fearful of being killed for their crimes without question, but Clarke was patient with them while trying to help them understand that they didn’t have to live that way anymore. 

And at night, they would hold each other tightly, kissing the worries and concerns and furrowed brows and all the other things on their to-do list away, getting lost in one another. After all this time, she still sent electric shocks through his body with the simplest of touches. 

But nothing compared to watching her adoration for their niece, the baby girl that had captivated their hearts from the moment they’d found out she was on the way months ago to the time they each got to hold her in their arms. Clarke was going to make an incredible mother, and he was honored that he’d get to be the father. 

He closed his eyes briefly, not enough for the other men in the room to tease him about it or ask him what was wrong, but long enough to recall the way her body fit with his when he would wrap his arms around her, and the feeling of her palm in his, the way her fingers slotted perfectly in between his. Only an hour or so and he’d have that again. 

Though, even an hour seemed too long. 

“You didn’t start the party without me, did you?” a voice sounded from the doorway and despite the fact that Bellamy had talked to him quite a few times over the past few months, it still didn’t register that Jake was in the cabin until Bellamy turned and saw the man standing in the doorway. He knew Clarke had been hoping her parents would come, but they’d been so hesitant and struggled with accepting how different things were that she hadn’t been totally sure.

“Mr. Griffin, of course not,” Bellamy said, a little hoarse, and cleared his throat. He saw Murphy snicker in the corner and Jake shake his head.

“No need for that mister stuff, though I appreciate the respect. Just Jake, Bellamy, is fine, I’ve told you that.”

“Right,” he acknowledged, shaking the man’s hand. “Glad you could make it.”

Jake just smiled. “Me too. I know Abby and I have had our share of worries and concerns over this, but we really do support you two and we’ll get used to it eventually,” he laughed. “Now, what were we joking about before I walked in and interrupted?”

“Nothi - ” Bellamy started.

“Bell was freaking out because he misses Clarke,” Miller finished for him. 

Bellamy felt his cheeks go red and a sheepish look grace his expression, but Jake just smiled even wider.

“Well, then let’s go see her,” he said simply.

“Thanks, but Harper isn’t going to let me near that cabin,” he told him.

“Oh! I think I can help with that,” Monty said with a smirk.

“There you go. Trust me, son, life is far too short to not spend every moment you can with the one you love. No matter how long it’s been. If you miss her, go get her.”

And that was how not ten minutes later he was standing at Monty and Harper’s cabin door, watching as Abby passed him and joined her husband on the path headed towards the beach, Jake’s arm slung over Abby’s shoulders.

“Bellamy?”

He’d never tire of hearing her voice in his ears, never get tired of her saying his name.

“Hey, I’m here. I had to promise to stay on this side of the door, but apparently you’re driving the girls as crazy as I am the guys, “ he joked and was rewarded with one of her breathy chuckles.

“We really are hopeless, hmm?” she asked, and if he concentrated hard enough on the inflection of her tone, he might be able to see in his mind the exact smile he knew she was wearing.

“Completely.” Then he added, “But this is the best kind of hopeless.”

“Yeah, it is,” she agreed. “I love you.”

“I love you too.”

\------------------------

An hour later he was up front by the ornate arch that Miller had surprised them with the day before, having spent over a month working on it for them. The breeze was light, which surprised him, it had been quite windy all week. The sun hadn’t set yet, but was dipping closer and closer to the tree line to the west, reflecting a dim glow off the surface of the ocean. The tide was low, which gave them plenty of room on the sand to hold their ceremony.

There weren't too many details to it, she’d meet him upfront by the arch, they’d say vows, combine painted sand blessed by Luna into a vase, then they’d share a kiss in front of everyone. It was very Old Earth, according to what he’d read in his books. Different clans had different traditions,and while Floukru had some specific to them, like the sand vase, they really just wanted a short and sweet celebration. 

Alexandra fussed a little in the back where Lincoln had her bundled against his chest, a thin blanket covering her as she took her nap. Bellamy took a moment to stare at them, the dark hair already evident on her head and her eyelids that hid her eyes as green as the trees around them. A spitting image of Octavia. They were such a beautiful family and he was so proud of his sister for building the life that she had. 

Clarke appeared on the path and despite the fact that she’d told him back when they got married the first time that she missed not having her father there to walk down the aisle, she’d decided to walk this one alone as well. They were already married and all she wanted was to focus on him and him on her. 

Which is exactly what was happening at the moment. She looked more beautiful and captivating than he ever thought possible, looking every bit like the woman he’d come to respect more than anyone, the woman who’d brought a light to his life that he hadn’t even known he was missing, the woman who calmed storms and moved mountains. 

His entire being was vibrating. Not with nervousness - no, he was never more sure of anything in his entire life. But it was vibrating with desire, with the anticipation of being near her, of solidifying what she already knew she meant to him. The blood in his veins thrummed for her and only her. 

She locked eyes with him and stole whatever breath was left in his lungs. They were bright blue today, full of hope and peace and love and she was completely open, letting Bellamy see all the way down to her soul. A far cry from the guarded woman that had been forced to live in his village almost a year ago. 

Her smile filled her face, and when she finally reached him, extending her arms so that she could place her hands in his, her skin felt warm, sun-kissed, and steady. 

She let out a breathy chuckle as he pulled her in to kiss her cheek. 

“You are breathtaking,” he murmured in her ear before pulling back. 

“Yeah, well, you know how I feel about dresses,” she teased. He chuckled a little back, because despite how he knew she felt about them, she wore them exceedingly well. “You don’t look so bad yourself,” she smiled up at him. He was dressed simply, in his nicest pants, and an off white button up tunic.

They started with the sand, colored with different extracts, Clarke’s was blue, Bellamy’s was green and they each poured a cupful into their vase, which would sit above their fireplace in their cabin. The two colors blended together, signifying the permanent merging of their lives and souls.

Then it was time for him to say his vows. He wasn’t sure he’d have the wherewithal to speak, and while he’d been left speechless when he first saw her, Bellamy found that now, words were suddenly not hard to come by.

“When we first met, I was so irritated at you. You were stubborn, and strong-willed, tenacious. It drove me crazy. But now, you are still all those things, but those are some of the things I treasure the most about you. 

“Your stubbornness and drive comes from this inherent goodness inside of you, this desire to make life better for everyone. Your strong will refuses to let you be deterred. Once you set your mind to something, you don’t take no for an answer,” he chuckled. “Your tenacity held us all together. You refused to lose any of us. You let us be your family, and you showed us what that means to you.” He sucked in a breath, willing himself to get through a little more before he let the tears fall.

“You're also compassionate, and smart as hell. I think it was impossible for me not to fall in love with you. I’ve never known peace like I feel with you. I used to think it was the ocean that did that for me, but that - that was a placeholder. It’s you, it’s always been you, it’ll always be you, until I die, and whatever comes after. I want to spend eons with you Clarke Griffin. And even then, that still might not be enough. We’re in it together, always.”

***

“Together,” she echoed, letting out a choked sob. “Well, I’m glad to hear it, because there’s not going back now,” she chuckled, to which he echoed. Then she teased, “How am I supposed to follow that?” putting an embarrassed smile on his freckled face. The face that she'd get to spend forever looking at, watching as it grew and changed as they got older. But he’d always be _her_ Bellamy. He gave himself to her, in the same way that she gave herself to him. An exchanging of souls. Irrevocable. Irreversible.

Clarke only vaguely registered the soft laughter of her friends and family at her indignation of how perfect his vows to her were, her eyes and focus set to Bellamy only. 

She sighed happily. “I didn’t expect this. My life on the Ark was made up of the same thing day in and day out. And when I volunteered to come down to the ground, I knew my world would change, get bigger and grander. But what I didn’t realize was that the reason that would happen would have nothing to do with Earth itself. It had to do with you. And the family that accepted me without question, without hesitation. That broke down walls I didn’t even know I had. You showed me what true strength is. You showed me what hope is. You believed in me. You loved me for who I am, not for who you want me to be. 

“I never knew that I could love someone so wholly and unconditionally, that that kind of love existed outside of books and movies. But you are so completely warm and kind and steady and hopeful. You are the hope that kept me trusting, the strength that kept me walking when I didn’t know how to go on. And I don’t know if I could ever stand here and not be moved by you. Changed by you. I look at you and I see the rest of my life. Our life. Together.”

“Together,” he repeated, the one word that summed up all the rest. For the entirety of their lives, _together_ would always be their most meaningful promise to each other.

They kissed then, completing the ceremony, to the whoops and hollers of their family, deafening in its volume, and Clarke was positive that the joy could be heard all the way to Polis. But somehow, the beat of his heart next to hers as they embraced overrode all of it. And then before she knew it they were being pounced on by their family, but one hand always stayed firmly in his grip. 

Hours later, after the flames from the giant bonfire Murphy had built died down, and the music Lincoln had arranged to be played by some friends of his faded away, and they bid goodnight to each one of the people that meant more to them than the world, and each gave Alex an extra kiss on the forehead, they found themselves back in their cabin, finally. 

“The girls made fun of me all night and day, but I _missed_ this cabin,” Clarke remarked, leaning over the windowsill to stare out at the moon. The night was crystal clear, the stars cascading across the sky. Back when she was on the Ark, they were just balls of gas, nothing special. But she wondered if she’d ever get tired of looking at them from this vantage point. 

Bellamy came up behind her, and wrapped his arms around her waist, placing his chin on her shoulder. “Just the cabin, hmm?”

“Yep. Why do you think I chose you? It was all about the cabin, this whole time,” she joked, turning her head so she could press her lips to his temple. 

He let out a breathy laugh, one that sent a wave of goosebumps spreading over her skin. “I love you, in case you didn’t know,” he whispered, kissing her neck. 

“I had an idea,” she whispered back, closing her eyes and savoring the feel of the roughness of his lips, the delicate way he held her. Not as if she was fragile or needed to be protected, but like she was something precious to him. 

“Hey, look at that,” he said suddenly, causing Clarke to open her eyes to see to what he was indicating. 

And sure enough, there were two stars shooting across the sky.

“What did you wish for?” she asked.

He straightened up and she turned around in his arms. He cocked his head slightly, clearly wondering what she meant. 

“Back on the beach, at the bonfire. You promised to tell me what you wished for when this was all over, when we weren’t fighting for our lives anymore. When I came back to you.” Clarke placed a hand on his cheek and felt as it shifted to accommodate the smirk that appeared on his lips. 

“You really want to know?” he asked. She nodded. “This,” he told her simply.

Now it was her turn to be confused. “This?” she clarified.

He laughed. “Even if I was still stuck in my own head, unwilling to really admit out loud how I felt about you… in my heart, I think I’d always known. That I wanted this to be where we ended up. So yeah, I wished for _this_ ,” he repeated, squeezing her hips. “I wished for you, Clarke.”

Her heart swelled in her chest. Her free hand joined her other on his cheek and pulled him down so their foreheads would rest against each other. 

They stayed like that for a while, sharing the same space, the same air. 

“So this is it, huh? It’s really over?” Clarke asked him. “We’re really here?”

He pulled her in for a kiss, long and searing and slow. When their lips parted she opened her eyes to see his dark brown eyes staring into hers. 

“We’re really here. But it’s far from over, Princess. It’s only just beginning. _We’re_ only just beginning. We have our whole lives ahead of us,” he whispered earnestly. There was so much hope in his voice, in the way he touched her, moved with her, stood with her, loved her. 

Hope. That was what it was all about.

“That sounds pretty damn good to me.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THANK YOU AGAIN and I hope you enjoyed it! I hope to see you all again on another story, whether mine or someone else's. 
> 
> On that note, I have a silly cheesy Aladdin AU in the works that the first chapter has been posted, and I've started writing yet another multi-chap! That one might take a little longer to get ready to post, so if you're interested in checking it out (it's a modern neighbor AU with clarke moving with madi next to bellamy) either user subscribe me on this site or join me on [tumblr](https://dayo488.tumblr.com/).
> 
> LOVE YOU ALL ❤  
> -Nicole


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